Dancing with Darkness
by lifemaybefleeting
Summary: When Erik is given the job of head composer at a popular Gentleman's club, he comes to fancy the club's lead dancer. He soon finds that she is not as she seems and is looking to learn how to love. Rated M for language and some sexual content.
1. Mademoiselle's

The Paris sun began to set over the city, the last light of daytime shining through the dirty windows of the apartment. He moved his gaze up from the piano. The Grandfather clock read 8:49. He needed to be downtown in ten minutes. After quickly stacking up his papers and shoving them into a briefcase, he left the flat.

Erik made his way downtown, keeping his head down and trying not to attract attention. People were always staring at him because of his mask. He tried to ignore them, but the constant whispers and pointing made him angry. He couldn't help looking this way, he was born with it. It was better to hide it with a mask then have his hideous face go exposed for all to see.

Shaking thoughts of the deformity from his head, he turned the corner and saw it.

Downtown Paris was known for its Red Light District. It was known to have the most beautiful, wild women in all of Europe. Every building on the street looked dead, but that was only an illusion. The inside of each building was alive, more alive than any other part of Paris.

There was only one building on the street that didn't look dead by any means.

They called it Mademoiselle's.

Mademoiselle's was the most well-known Gentlemen's club in all of France, possibly in all of Europe. Only the best and most attractive dancers worked at Mademoiselle's. Every night, the club was packed full of men. Every single, and sometimes even married, man wanted to be at Mademoiselle's when the sun set.

Erik had been to Mademoiselle's many times, but never during the nighttime. He was always there during the day, helping the owner with business. He had met Marie Cloutier around two years ago when he sold compositions. She had been in need of music for her new club, and business for Erik had been extremely slow. He wrote an upbeat, vaudeville type song for her performers and had been working with her ever since.

Marie was a very different woman. She was kind, but very pushy, in a way. She always got what she wanted, which was probably why Erik was still working with her. Twice a week, he met up with Marie to give her new compositions. Erik hated the things she wanted him to compose, for they were too bohemian and modern for his taste. He preferred music with grand orchestras, fleeting sopranos, and words that told a story, not music with high-pitched female screeches and 'sexy' brass instruments like the music being performed at Mademoiselle's.

But Erik composed it anyway. He actually liked to help Marie, because he was helping her dream come true. Why her dream was to own a strip club, he had no idea.

Erik could hear and feel the loud music shaking the ground around the building. As he entered Mademoiselle's, he recognized the song. It had been something he'd composed a few weeks back, and it was not a song he particularly liked. He tried to block out the blaring music from his ears as he made his way up to Marie's office. He knocked twice before he heard her voice.

"It's open, Erik!" she called.

He opened the door and quickly entered the room, shutting the door tightly behind him. "Good lord, Marie. Must that music be so loud out there?" he mumbled, setting his briefcase on her desk.

She laughed. "Of course, my dear. If I don't keep the music up, I'll lose the party atmosphere!" She turned to face him. "Erik, why do you have your briefcase?"

He furrowed his brows. "What kind of question is that, Marie?"

She went to the briefcase, her nimble fingers running across the black leather. She opened it and peered inside. "Oh, I must not have been clear. I did not ask you to come so you could show me new compositions, I asked you to come here so you could finally hear your music live! I figured it's been nearly two years since you started writing for me, you should hear your music being performed!"

Erik closed the briefcase. "Well, in that case, I will be going. I do not wish to hear it live. Thank you, though. I hope you enjoy your night."

Before he could leave, a hand grabbed his jacket. "Oh no you don't. Come on, Erik. You could use a good night out. If you'd like, I'll even let you have a night alone with one of my dancers," she winked, making him feel uncomfortable.

"Marie, I do not wish for that at all. I wish to return to my home if you do not need me."

The woman frowned. "Please, Erik. Just stay for a little bit. I promise you'll enjoy yourself! Come on, I'm going to have Fredrick bring you to a private table closet to the front!"

Before he could protest, a rather large man was bringing him out of Marie's office and down to the main floor. The music blared in Erik's ears as he was seated.

'_This is NOT how I wish to be spending my night,'_ he thought to himself.

Erik was seated right next to the stage. This was not good, for the dancers knew that men at the close tables had paid a lot, so they would come over and give 'special dances'. That was the last thing Erik wanted. He didn't even pay, either!

'_Damn you, Marie. Sticking me in here like this, and then putting me right next to the stage!'_

The song changed, and the girls onstage quickly hurried backstage. Erik ordered a glass of brandy to keep him occupied during the next song. He wanted nothing to do with the dancers, so he might as well make himself look busy with something to keep them away.

His drink arrived right as the next song was about to start. Girls flocked to the stage. The only thing that was different about Mademoiselle's is that they didn't dress their girls as complete whores. Most of them wore big skirts to the knees and tops that covered their whole chests, give or take some cleavage, and shoulders. Erik prided Marie for that. In all the other clubs around Paris, the girls were nearly left naked!

Now, the dancers at Mademoiselle's did do some provocative movements at times, but it was at their own will. As he'd heard one girl say it, moves like that made them money and kept them off the street.

Erik stirred his brandy, keeping his eyes on the amber colored drink. The lights suddenly dimmed, bringing Erik's attention up. The lights were always bright and colorful, Marie made sure of it! Suddenly, a spotlight rose and circled the curtain.

A female voice filled the room. He looked over and saw the lead performer, the men called her Scarlet, standing on a table. Another spotlight went to her, revealing her short silver leotard and sparkling skirt. "Alright boys, are you ready to welcome our favorite little starlight back to the stage?" she said. The men cheered, raising their glasses and hollering.

Scarlet smirked and threw her arms up. "Ooo, a nice warm welcome! Well then, come on out, little miss Christine!"

The curtains opened, revealing a petite brunette. Erik looked over to her, his eyes widening. She must have been the girl Marie had told him about a few days ago, the one who had been absent because of illness.

Well, she certainly seemed to be feeling better.

"As most of you know, Miss Christine will be taking over as head dancer while I'm on my leave of absence. So feast your eyes on mini me!" Scarlet said, pointing to the girl.

The men cheered again when they saw her walk to the front of the stage. The girl was dressed in a strapless leotard that looked similar to Scarlet's. That was odd, none of the other girls usually got to wear anything that looked like Scarlet's clothing. The only difference in Christine's costume was that it red and did not have a skirt attached. The girl's leotard matched her bright red lips, which were paired with sparkling eye makeup and long, dark lashes. Christine had tight, brown curls cascading down her back, which was also unusual. Most of the girls kept their hair up.

Her heels clicked on the wooden stage floor as she made her way to the front of it. She put her hands on her hips, posing for the pigs in the audience.

"I see that you've missed me," she said, a smirk falling upon her red lips.

Another roar emerged from the crowd. What was the big deal about this woman? Sure, she was drop dead gorgeous, but so was Scarlet. No one ever got as much applause and cheers as Scarlet… except Christine. Even though she would be taking over for Scarlet, it still didn't make much sense.

The girl began to prance around the stage as the brass section began to play. Erik's quickly put his head down as the girl started coming in his direction.

"The boss has informed me that we have a special first time visitor in the audience tonight!"

'_Oh no.'_

'_Oh my God, she can't mean…'_

He glanced up to see the girl pointing at him from the stage.

'_Fuck.'_

"Why don't you come here and let me give you a warm welcome," she said, another smirk forming on her face.

Erik looked back down at his drink, a scowl forming on his face. Christine pouted, faking some sad noises. "Fine then, I guess I'm just going to have to come to you," she said, strutting to him.

'_Jesus Christ, this is NOT happening.'_

The girl was coming towards him. Erik wanted to get up, but all the men had swarmed towards him so they could get a closer look at Christine. Erik was trapped and not happy about it.

The girl suddenly appeared before him, sliding his glass out of the way and sitting on the table. She put a leg on either side of him, running her delicate fingers down them. "Why, hello Monsieur. Glad you could join me tonight," she smirked, leaning towards him. She gave him a wink and his gaze shot away from her.

"Oh Monsieur, don't be like that," she whispered. His eyes slowly returned up and he caught a real glimpse of her face.

She was gorgeous, unlike any other woman Erik had ever seen. Her eyes were a chocolate brown color, just like her hair. Her skin was light and creamy and her lips were full and luscious. She was a picture of beauty and perfection. Why did a pretty girl like her need to be here?

Christine reached a hand out and pulled on a lapel of Erik's jacket. "This song is for you," she said, standing again and returning to the stage. Erik was left speechless when she left.

'_What just happened?'_

Erik didn't have much time to think, for soon the music was picking up again and Christine had taken a seat on a swing in the middle of the stage. She crossed her legs and smirked over at Erik.

The music died down for a moment as she opened her mouth and began to sing.

This girl could _sing_! Hell, she was amazing!

Erik's heart sped up at the sound of her voice. He recognized the song, for he had written it. It was one of the songs he actually didn't hate, too!

The men went crazy as she sang. Erik didn't blame them, for his mind was spinning. The girl began to move around on the swing. Erik's eyes were locked on her as she stroked her legs once again, then swung a bit on the swing.

The rest of performance was pretty much a blur. All Erik paid attention to after that was her voice. She had the voice of an angel! He couldn't stop wondering why an angel like her was in this pit of demons.

When her performance ended, the men cheered and yelled her name. She winked and waved to them before walking past Erik's table. She smirked at him. "I'll see you soon," she said, winking and disappearing behind the curtain.

Erik's heart raced. He quickly grabbed his brandy and drank the whole glass in one gulp.

'_Wait… what does she mean she'll see me soon?'_


	2. Visiting the Temptress

'_She'll see me soon?'_

Erik furrowed his brows in confusion. What was she talking about?

His thoughts were interrupted by Scarlet's voice. "Alright, lovelies! Are you all ready for the finale?" she called. A roar erupted from the crowd. Scarlet's smirk turned to a grin. "You heard them ladies, come on out!"

Right on cue, all of the Mademoiselle's dancers emerged from behind the curtain. They all were wearing similar costumes, a tight corset on top of a short, sheer skirt. Christine was the last girl in line, appearing in the red leotard again. Her hair had been put up quickly and she looked identical to Scarlet, just in different colors.

All of the other girls went straight for the men, picking a partner and bringing them to the dance floor. Scarlet and Christine stayed onstage, doing a provocative dance of their own. Erik's eyes went to Christine and him thankfully none of the other girls approached him to dance. He watched her and Scarlet as they shook their rear ends at the audience.

Erik's eyebrows rose. Why had Marie sent a girl like this to him? Erik thought of himself as secluded, mature, and a bit shy. Why had she sent him a girl who was the exact opposite?

His thoughts were once again interrupted, but this time by Christine. She stepped once again onto his table, but this time she held out a freshly manicured hand to him.

"This is Scarlet's time for her final solo performance tonight. Care to dance?" she asked, smirking at him. His lips parted, but no words came out. He did not want to dance, unless he was dancing right out the door. But she was insisting, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the dance floor.

Her hands went to his shoulders and she swayed her hips back and forth. "So I've been informed that you are Marie's writer friend," she said. She suddenly dropped to the floor, her hands quickly running down the entire length of his body. Erik gasped, the act stunning him.

Her face returned in front of his and she giggled. "It's true, is it not? You are Marie's composer."

Erik took in a deep breath. "Yes, I am. As you can probably see, I do not belong here at night time," he grumbled.

Christine laughed once more. "Oh, don't worry sweetheart, you'll fit in great around here after tonight." She winked at him, confusing Erik once more.

Suddenly, her hand went between his legs, giving him a quick squeeze. Erik gasped again, bending slightly. She grabbed his chin with her other hand, bringing his face back up. "I hope to give you one hell of a time after the show, monsieur. I must go for now, but I will be expecting you upstairs outside my door in twenty minutes."

Her red lips pressed a kiss to his hand before she rejoined the other girls. Erik stood, slightly hunched over, in shock.

'_What?!'_

The crowd roared and cheered, raising their glasses to the girls as they bowed and disappeared.

The men began grabbing their things and leaving. Erik didn't know what to do. He glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was nearly midnight! He was supposed to meet this girl for some reason still, so he wouldn't be leaving until at least one! Erik grumbled, making his way to Marie's office.

* * *

"Marie, what the hell was that?!" he barked, entering her office. She turned around to face him and smiled. "I saw that you met my little Christine!" she winked, making Erik even angrier.

"Yes, I did meet her, but my question is, WHY did I meet her?"

Marie took a sip of the wine she had on her desk. "Erik, I know how lonely you are. All you do is sit in your damned flat all day by yourself. You need a night out with a woman, and Christine is the perfect girl for you! She's my little singer, and you're my composer! It's perfect!"

Erik frowned. "Marie, I do not need a woman, and I certainly don't need one to just sleep with me one night and forget about me again! This girl is gorgeous; she's probably got a different guy in her bed every night!"

Marie shrugged her shoulders, taking another sip of wine. "Well, not e_very_ night, but she's taking over for our lead dancer, what do you expect? The girl's got to make money somehow. But don't think about that, Erik! She's a great girl, and maybe if you charm her enough tonight…" she turned to him and gave him a very cheeky grin.

Erik scowled. "Marie, I do not want to sleep with a prostitute!"

The woman glared. "She's a courtesan, Erik. Not just any old prostitute. Come on, just let loose for one night. I know you won't regret it."

Erik ran a hand through his dark hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Fine, Marie. I will visit with the girl, but only this once."

Marie smiled and stood up. "Yes! I knew you'd come around! Now go, you're going to be late!" She turned him towards her door. "Wait! Give her this!"

She stuck a red rose in his hand and shoved him out the door. "Have fun, Erik!" she giggled, shutting her door.

* * *

Erik was guided to Christine's room by Fredrick. Erik did not want this at all, but he felt as if he had to. He knocked on her door, taking a deep breath.

The door opened slowly and the girl appeared before him. Erik's eyes widened as he took in the sight of her.

She was dressed in a black, sleeveless corset leotard with red ties. A black, lacey robe was draped over her shoulders and her lips were now a new, darker shade of red. Her chocolate hair flowed down over her shoulders and her eyes were lined in a thin ring of black. Her black heels had a jewel on the buckles and it glimmered in the candlelight. Everything about her screamed 'sex'.

"I have been expecting you, monsieur," she said, her voice filled with a seductive tone.

Erik returned his eyes back to her face. She stepped aside and let him in, closing the door tightly behind him. "What do you have there?" she asked, raising an eyebrow towards the rose.

He looked down at the rose in his hand. Oh, yes, he was to give this to her. "Ah, yes… this is for you," he said, bowing slightly as he handed it to her.

Christine smiled and took the rose, putting it in a vase and setting it on the table. Erik couldn't help but notice how cluttered her table was. It was covered in music.

_His music._

She must have seen his eyes wandering. "You are a very good composer, I love rehearsing your work," she smirked. She moved to him, running a hand down his chest. "Speaking of rehearsing… I think we've got a little bit of work to get done tonight…"

Erik tensed. "I… I would prefer to talk a little first," he said, not allowing himself to look at her.

"Oh, you'd like to talk?" she asked, teasing him a bit. "And what would you like to talk about?"

Erik and Christine were obviously not on the same page. "I… I'm not sure, actually. I just don't want to rush into things, exactly."

The temptress ran her fingers along the waist of his trousers. "Oh, so you'd like a little dirty talk first, huh?" she winked. Erik frowned and stepped away from her. "No. That's not what I want, Christine. Honestly, I don't even know what I'm doing here."

The girl furrowed her brows, then took a seat on her bed. "Oh, Monsieur, I think we both know why you're here," she smirked once more, her eyes staring into Erik's soul.

Erik looked away. "You have different ideas than I, Madame."

"So… you don't want to sleep with me?"

He quickly looked back at her. Feeling suddenly nervous, he responded. "I… well… no, I'm not saying that, I just… I feel weird sleeping with a woman who sleeps with so many other men…"

The girl lay back on the bed. "Oh, but don't think of all the other men. You're the only one who matters now. Trust me, Monsieur."

Erik sighed. "I know that Marie told you to sleep with me, Christine. For God's sake, you don't even know my name! This isn't love, and I am not interested in a night of lust."

Christine didn't understand this man. He was nothing like the other men who'd visited her in the nighttime. By now, she'd usually be pressed against the bedframe, not having a conversation. She wondered why he'd even come. If he didn't want to have sex with her, why did he rent her out for the night?

"It is true that I don't know your name. Could you tell me?"

Her eyes pleaded with him. Erik felt that maybe he was getting to her and she finally understood. "Erik," he said. "My name is Erik."

She smiled and stretched her arms across the sheets. "Erik, what a lovely name," she said. "_Erik. _It sounds like quite a gentleman's name, don't you think?"

Was she teasing him? Maybe she didn't understand as he thought she did.

"Christine… I have a serious question for you," he said, turning towards her once more. She had one leg popped up and was posing on the bed. He raised an eyebrow in disappointment.

"Ask me_ anything_, Erik," she said, winking at him. The sudden change of attitude confirmed Erik's suspicion. She was putting on an act.

"Why are you here? A pretty young girl like you does not belong in a Gentleman's club. Why aren't you married to a nice young suitor?"

He had cracked her shell. She knew that she couldn't keep the act going. No one had ever figured it out before, that she truly didn't want to be here. But she had no other choice. She looked down, slowly dropping the pose. "I… I need the money badly," she said, keeping her eyes locked on the floor.

Erik was confused. "Then why not just get a real job, like a seamstress or a singer? You're a very good singer, why not work for an Opera or something of the sort?"

Christine shook her head. "I'm not good enough for that. I can't get a 'real' job. This is the only job I've ever known." She took a deep breath. Why she was telling him, she had no idea, but once she started, she couldn't stop.

"My father died two years ago and I had no one. I'd been jumping around town to town, trying to find somewhere, someone to take me in. I was just sixteen and I was stupid. I found this place and talked to woman outside. She told me about it and how much money she made dancing there. It was the only option I had, and it provided me with a place to stay. Of course I chose to dance here."

Erik eyes were widened. "You were dancing here and acting as a courtesan when you were _sixteen_?"

"Oh, no!" she said, shaking her head. "I didn't become a courtesan until I turned eighteen last month. I would have never done that when I was so young and naïve…"

The irony ate at Erik. She was s_till_ young and naïve, but his heart went out to Christine. The poor child, so lost and helpless. She needed guidance… she needed a good man in her life.

"Christine… are you treated well by the men who come here?"

Her eyes rose slightly, but once they caught Erik's, they looked away. "Well, they pay me very well… I just have to let them do what they want. If that means I'm thrown against the bed and held down until their needs are met, then it is what it is."

He couldn't believe what she was saying. That was not making love! That was lust at its worst!

"Christine… do you even know how to make love?"

Her eyes shot up to his. "What? Of… Of course I do…" she bit her lip and looked down again. Of course she didn't. She had an idea of what it was, but no one had ever treated her well while sleeping with her. "Why do you ask?"

Erik took a deep breath and sat beside her. "You need to be taught that lust is not making love. There are significant differences. For example, I could have come in here ten minutes ago and forced you down, as you'd expected me to. That would have been my lust for you. But if I had your approval and gently touched you, not hurting you in any way, that would be different. To care about you and take care of you during the act would be making love."

Christine nodded slowly, then looked at him. "No one's ever made love to me," she said. "You would have been the first, had you come in and did what you said."

Erik wanted to sleep with her. She was beautiful and perfect in every way, but he knew he couldn't. It wouldn't be right, not now. He felt certain… _things_ for her, but he knew she wouldn't feel the same.

He felt the girl looking at him. He slowly turned his gaze to her. "Erik… we both know why we were told to be here… and, well…" She bit her lip and folded her hands in her lap. She had suddenly changed from a strong, seductive woman to a shy, innocent child. Erik could hear in her voice that she was nervous.

"Will you show me the proper way to make love?"


	3. The Secret Plan

A lump formed in Erik's throat. Oh God, why'd she have to ask him now?

"I… uh…" he ran a hand through his hair, not able to find the right words.

Christine stood and sighed. "Never mind, that was foolish of me to ask. I'm just being naïve again. You may go, Erik." Her heels clicked against the wood as she walked to the door, opening it for him.

Erik rose from the bed and walked to her. He shut the door slightly, making sure no one would see him. He gently took Christine's hand in his and kissed it. "Christine… the first rule of making love is that you must be in love with the other person. We must get to know each other first."

The girl's expression softened, as if she understood. She slowly nodded. Her chocolate eyes twinkled a little as she smiling softly. "It has been a pleasure having you tonight, Monsieur," she said, a small blush painting her cheeks.

Erik smirked at her. He felt as if he had changed her a little, which made him both happy and proud. "Madame, the pleasure has been all mine," he whispered. "Now, get a good night's rest. You have had quite a night. Hopefully I will see you sometime soon." He slipped out the door, unseen and unheard by anyone but Christine.

* * *

Christine stood by the door, watching him leave.

_Erik._

He was unlike any man she'd ever met. He was kind and caring, yet very mysterious. Why had he been so kind to her? Why had he taken the time to teach her about love?

When Christine was growing up, the only one who taught her about love was her father. He had told her that love was a curious thing, but it was also one of the strongest feelings on Earth. He had said that love was not something to fool with, that you must guard your heart and only allow true love inside.

After her father died, she didn't let love into her heart. She pushed away the only friends she had, choosing to isolate herself.

Erik had changed that.

Christine felt something for Erik. She wouldn't say it was love, but it was certainly something. He was like a real friend, or he at least treated her like one.

She decided in that moment that she wanted to see him again.

Christine quickly tied the robe, covering up as much of herself as she could with the thin, lacey garment. She ran down the hall and across the main floor. The main floor was deserted, for all the other girls were either sleeping or being slept with. Christine climbed up a small set of stairs and knocked on Marie's door.

"Miss Cloutier, it's Christine! May I enter?" Christine said, her hand already starting to turn the doorknob.

She heard quick shuffling and a hushed voice curse. "Yes, come in, Christine," she said after a moment.

Christine opened the door and the color drained from her face. Marie was sitting on the edge of her desk, tying a robe around herself. A man was in the corner, pulling on his breeches. "Oh… I… I didn't mean to interrupt anything…" she said, blushing widely.

Marie shrugged. "It's alright, we were finished anyways. How can I help you?"

Christine bit her lip, keeping her eyes away from the strange man in the corner that was staring at her. "I… I would like to know if I could see Erik again," she said nervously.

Marie's face lit up like a Christmas lantern. "I knew he'd put your services to good use," she said excitedly.

Another blush appeared on Christine's face. "Well… not exactly… we didn't sleep together. We just spoke. I really enjoyed his company and I would like to see him again."

Marie's smile dropped. She waved her 'friend' out of the room. "Christine, have a seat. I think we need to talk," she said, gesturing to a chair. Christine slowly made her way to the chair, sitting on the edge of it.

Marie crossed her arms. "Christine, you know I cannot allow you to see Erik anymore. You are a courtesan and the most popular one now that Scarlet is taking her absence! I can't have you spending your nights having little conversations with Erik when you're supposed to be indulging fantasies for other men! I know it's not what you wanted to hear, but you knew all of this when you accepted the role of lead dancer. I'm sorry, but it is what it is."

Christine hung her head. "I understand," she said sadly. "It's just… he treated me better than any other man has here."

Marie sighed. "Christine, why have you changed so much tonight? Where has my confident, stunning, and seductive dancer? You have not picked a worse time to fail me, Christine."

The sliver of happiness left in Christine's heart had been slashed away. Her eyes faded and her shoulders slumped down. She looked away from Marie before answering. "I'm sorry, Marie. I promise you that I'll be back to normal tomorrow. I'm just… tired, worn out. I'll be back to my usual self in the morning. Thank you for speaking to me."

Christine stood and exited the office before Marie could protest. She kept her head down all the way back to her room. The main floor was now dark, as were the halls and stairways leading to the dormitories. Christine found her in the dark, quickly opening her door and entering her room. She collapsed onto her bed, burying her face in the pillows.

Why did it have to be this way? She finally gets a real friend, and he's already being taken from her? Life just wasn't fair.

Christine fell asleep with tears on her face.

* * *

Erik returned to his flat a little after one in the morning. His set his briefcase on his desk and closed the curtains. After lighting the lantern next to the piano, he took a seat on the bench. He couldn't stop thinking about the girl.

_Christine._

She was perfect. Once she dropped the courtesan act, she was like an angel sent from heaven. And Erik had been the one to break her shell!

He felt amazing. He had a friend! He knew Christine didn't think badly of him, surely she thought of him as a friend! She had even asked him to make love to her…

Erik pushed those thoughts away. He wouldn't think of that now. All he wanted to think of now was a gift for Christine.

He placed a clean sheet of paper in front of him and began to compose.

* * *

Erik woke up the next morning with his face on the piano. He looked up quickly at the grandfather clock. 10:52.

He'd never slept this late! He had to get down to Mademoiselle's!

Erik grabbed the finished composition before him and put it under all the papers in his briefcase. He grabbed the case and burst out the door, heading down the stairs and down the street.

The street before Mademoiselle's was nearly empty, as it always was. The only people on the street in the mornings were hung-over men who had just woken up in a strange bed, still feeling strangely aroused. Erik made an extra effort to not look at them, for he wanted nothing to do with those pigs.

Erik entered Mademoiselle's, not expecting what was going on. All of the girls were onstage, half naked and confused.

Marie stood on one of the tables in front of the stage, yelling something at them. Erik stopped in the doorway to listen.

"Listen up, ladies! We need to focus at this rehearsal! I know, I know, we never have early morning rehearsals, but with Scarlet gone, I need to see how you will perform! So come on, from the top!"

A rehearsal? The girls never had rehearsals during the day. Erik looked up to the stage and saw Christine. She was dressed in a jeweled brassiere and short, fluffy skirt that matched the brassiere. Her hair was pinned up on top of her head and she looked like she had just been woken up.

"Christine! Madame, are you awake back there?" Marie called.

Christine quickly snapped to attention and went to the front of the stage. "I'm sorry, Madame. Just a little drowsy."

Marie frowned. "Well, you better get your act together quick, Miss Christine. Now, start from the top."

Erik watched as the bright, colorful lights came up and the band began to play. Christine reentered, striking a pose on the front of the stage. The music got louder and louder, then suddenly stopped.

Christine flicked her head forward, then opened her mouth and began to sing. The brass started again, sending all the girls onstage to the main floor where the audience would sit.

Erik could not take his eyes off Christine. She was like an animal, prancing around and writhing against the walls and floors. This was not the Christine he had spent time with last night. This girl was hungry, feral, and… sleazy. He didn't want to like this, but he couldn't help feeling slightly aroused.

'_No! You cannot think of her this way!'_

He took his eyes off her and looked down at the floor. He couldn't watch anymore. This wasn't Christine, and he knew she would be upset if she knew he was thinking of her like that.

The song soon ended and Marie clapped her hands. "Alright, alright, that was much better. Take a break, ladies!"

Erik stepped out of doorway, his eyes returning to Christine. Her eyes immediately went to him. She glanced at Marie, who was facing away from Christine, then back at Erik and waved slightly. He waved back, smiling at her innocent gesture. She quickly looked away from him and back to Marie, not returning her gaze after that.

Erik didn't let this bother him. He was here to speak with Marie. "Marie!" he said, making his way to her. She turned quickly to him, a less than happy smile appearing on her face. "Erik… I wasn't expecting you… why don't we go to my office?"

She led him up to her office, quickly shutting the door behind them. "Erik, why are you here? You weren't supposed to come in today," Marie said, sitting on her desk and crossing her arms.

Erik was slightly confused by her annoyed tone. "I have a new composition…" he said, raising an eyebrow. He set the briefcase down and opened it, pulling out the sheet music and handing it to her. "I wrote it for the new lead dancer."

Marie frowned and took the music. "Of course you did. I heard you didn't sleep together last night. Instead, you had a nice_ conversation_," she mocked.

Why was she so angry? So what if he hadn't bedded her?

"Yes… that is true… is that a problem?" Erik closed the briefcase and looked at Marie oddly.

"Erik, she does not have time for conversations. She is to be fulfilling sexual fantasies, not chatting with the composer!"

Erik furrowed his brows. Marie had never been like this. Why was she like this now?

"Alright… I'm sorry, I guess. I had a nice time with her, even if we didn't lie together."

The woman set the sheet music down on the desk. "Erik, I will have her sing the song tomorrow. Just don't bother her too much, alright?" She massaged her temples and closed her eyes. Erik didn't see why it was a big deal if he saw Christine, but he didn't question Marie.

"Thank you," he said. "I will be sure to see her on a minimal basis."

With that, he left Marie's office.

On the way out of the building, he was grabbed and pulled around the corner. Before he could grab at the neck of his pursuer, she spoke.

"Erik, it's me. Do you have a moment to speak?"

Christine's chocolate eyes gazed into his as she spoke. He nodded. "Of course, Christine," he said softly.

She tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear, glancing down. "Will you come again tonight?" she asked in a whisper. Her hand gently went to his arm as she looked back up at his golden eyes. In her eyes was a mixture of things that Erik could not quite confirm.

"Ah… yes, if you wish…" he said, looking at her hand for a moment. It was hard to keep his eyes off her while she was dressed as she was. "Would you like me to come back to your room after the show?"

Christine nodded quickly. "Yes, but you must be careful and quiet. No one can see you. Promise me you'll do that?" Erik nodded, then took her hand from his arm. He gave her a gentle kiss on the hand and smiled at her.

She returned the smile and backed away. "I have to go… but I'll see you tonight. Thank you, Erik."

She quickly disappeared down the hall and up the staircase. Erik sat in wonder for a moment.

Why did she want him to be unseen and unheard? Why did she seem nervous and afraid? Why did she want him to return in the first place?

Erik shrugged it off and headed home. He had a night out to prepare for.


	4. Visitors

8:38.

Erik saw the time on the grandfather clock and got up from the piano. He wanted to get to Mademoiselle's a little early to guarantee he would get a good seat. Tonight was Christine's first night as lead dancer, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was excited for her. Even though he hated seeing her in this profession, he was happy that she had earned her keep here.

The moon shone brightly in the sky, illuminating the Red Light district. Mademoiselle's had just turned on its lights, welcoming in the pigs that flocked the street. Erik watching as the rich snobs made their way into the club, paying the guard as they walked through the door.

Erik approached the guard, pulling a handful of coins from his pocket. "Good evening, Fredrick. I would prefer a table that is right next to the stage tonight." He placed the coins in Fredrick's hand, making the guard's eyes widen. "Oh, oh course Monsieur. I think you'll be pleased to find yourself at table two tonight."

With a smirk and a nod, Erik was off to his table. He found table two, which was next to the best table in the place, table one. Table one was directly at the foot of the stage and gave patrons a perfect view of all the girls. Erik glanced over to see who had bid higher than him and gotten the table.

A golden haired boy with a very fancy suit sat with his hands crossed on the table. He looked to be around twenty. Why was he here? How had a young boy like him pocketed enough money to afford that table?

Erik furrowed his brows and stared at the boy. He must be from a rich family, but even so, why was he here instead of back in his mansion with a gorgeous wife?

The boy must have seen Erik staring at him. He leaned towards Erik. "Monsieur, is there a problem?" he asked. Erik snapped back to reality and sat up straighter.

"My apologies, Monsieur. I've just never seen you around here before," Erik said, running a hand through his hair. The boy nodded. "This is my first time coming here. All of my friends say this is the best club in Paris."

He extended his hand to Erik. "I am the Vicomte de Changy. My friends just call me Raoul, though," he smirked.

'_Cocky,' _Erik thought. Nevertheless, he extended his hand and shook the Vicomte's. "Erik," he said. "My name is nothing fancy, I'm afraid."

The Vicomte laughed. "That's nothing to be ashamed of, Monsieur. Obviously you have much to your name, getting a table like the one you're at!"

'_This fool! How dare he discuss my personal finances! He is nothing more than an insolent boy!'_

Erik returned his hand to his lap, ceasing conversation with the Vicomte. The band began to play and the lights came up. A spotlight went up to the top platform of the stage, revealing Christine in the same outfit she'd worn to rehearsals early. She sat on the platform with her bare legs crossed. She raised her arms above her head and opened her mouth.

"Are you ready to dance?" She called, a wide smile consuming her face.

"Wow, isn't she something?" The Vicomte said, looking over at Erik. A foolish grin fell upon the boy's mouth. Erik scowled. That boy could _not_ think about Christine that way! Christine was _his_!

The crowd cheered and she stood. "Then come on out, ladies! Let's give these fellows their money's worth!"

The girls filled out on stage, some going into the audience.

'_The usual.'_

Erik kept his eyes on Christine. She once again had dark makeup on her eyes and bright red lips. Her body seemed glossy, as if she'd been lathered in something. Christine made her way to the front of the stage, standing right before the Vicomte.

His face suddenly went white and his jaw dropped. Christine did not look at him; instead she looked over and winked at Erik. She opened her mouth and began to sing. It wasn't the new song Erik had written for her, to his disappointment. It was the same silly song Scarlet had always opened with. Erik sat back and listened.

Erik couldn't help but wonder why the boy at the table one was so pale. He seemed shocked beyond belief, unable to spit out any words. Why had he acted like that? It wasn't like he knew Christine… did he?

Erik shook the thoughts from his head and focused on Christine. She had moved to a different platform of the stage, posing seductively as she sang. The other girls were either dancing around the stage or in the laps of strangers. Christine thrusted her body against a male dancer, which brought a blush to Erik's face.

Erik took a moment to glance back over at the Vicomte. There was a new man at his table. The two were whispering and the Vicomte was pointing at Christine. Erik tried his best to listen in.

"But Philippe! I know it's her, she came right up to the front and I saw her face!"

The other man shook his head. "Raoul, my dear brother, I think you are seeing things. I know you miss her, but you need to get over it. You knew Christine better than I, but even I know she would never leave you to become a common whore!"

Erik's eyebrows rose up to his hairline. He knew Christine?! She used to be _with him_?

"But Philippe… I saw her. It's Christine, I'm telling you! Look, here she comes! Look at her face!"

Christine made her way to the front of the stage again as the song was about to end. Erik's heart pounded in his chest. She could not have known that boy! There was no way!

Christine finished the song with a signature pose on the edge of the stage. Erik's eyes went to the two beside him. The older boy's eyes widen as he looked up at Christine.

"Christine?" the Vicomte said, gazing up at her.

As the lights changed, Christine looked down to see who had said her name. Her jaw dropped as she saw him. She quickly looked away from the boy and let her smile return to her face. She momentarily glanced at Erik before turning and going offstage.

The Vicomte quickly got up from his seat, but was pulled back down by the other man. "Brother, listen to me," he said, restraining the Vicomte. "We will return tomorrow and you may speak to her then. But for now, we must leave."

The Vicomte tried to argue, but found it was useless. He and his brother left the club in a hurry, leaving Erik alone to wonder.

* * *

After the show was over, Erik went quickly to Christine's dressing room. He knocked twice before the door opened. Christine stood in another corseted leotard set with her robe. She pulled him inside and quickly shut the door.

"Erik, thank God," she said. "No one can know you're here, understand? Marie does not want me seeing you, and if you are caught…"

Erik stopped her, taking her hands gently. "Christine, do not worry. I will never be seen, I promise you. I have been known to be a master of lurking and hiding."

He smiled at Christine, relaxing her a bit. She exhaled and nodded, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

Erik was shocked by the hug. He slowly returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around her and resting his hands on her back. She nuzzled her head into his chest and Erik slowly reached a hand up, stroking her soft, chocolate curls.

The embrace was broken when there was a knock on the door. Christine jumped back, beginning to panic. "One moment!" she called, frantically looking around. "Erik, hide!" she hissed, pushing him away from the door.

Erik quickly hid under a covered table as Christine went to the door. She pulled it open, putting her courtesan act back on.

"Why hello, monsieur. How may I service you this evening?" she asked, her voice taking on a seductive tone. The man held out a bag of coins and smirked. Christine opened the door wider, guiding him in.

'_Bloody hell…'_ Erik thought. Was she really going to do this now?!

Christine slid a paper heart under the door as she locked it. The man was rather handsome man, tall and slim. He slipped off his jacket and unbuttoned his waistcoat as Christine turned to him. "What is your name, Monsieur?" she asked, moving to him and helping him unbutton his shirt.

"Santiago," he said. His accent was thick and pure, distinguishing that he was of strong Spanish descent.

Christine smirked at him, removing his shirt. "You're not from Paris, I presume," she whispered. "It's nice to get a taste of foreign lands once in a while."

With that, the man was quickly undoing her corset. He brought his lips to hers as he stripped her down to nothing.

Erik sat uncomfortably under the table as the man pressed Christine to the bed. He heard all of Christine's sighs and moans as the Spaniard smashed into her. Erik tried to ignore what was going on a mere ten feet away from him, but it was nearly impossible.

After a few minutes, he peeked out from under the table. The man had shoved Christine up against the headboard as he fulfilled his wants and needs. She was naked and sweating, her eyes closed and fingers clawing at the man's back. Erik looked away, not able to watch. It felt wrong looking at her like that. She had trusted him as her friend; he was in no position to stare.

After another ten minutes, the room fell silent. Erik soon heard the weight of the bed shift as the man got up. He grabbed his clothing, dressing quickly and leaving the room. Erik peered out once again from under the table to make sure the man had left. He slowly got out from under the table, groaning quietly as he stretched his muscles.

Erik looked over at Christine's bed. She lay bare naked with her head tilted back, her eyes closed tight. He quickly covered her with the sheet, trying his hardest not to look at her naked self.

Christine sighed deeply, slowly opening her eyes. "I'm sorry, Erik…" she said sadly, looking down at the bunched up sheets and pillows. The poor girl, her innocence taken from her once again. Erik gently brushed the hair from her face. "I will run you a bath, Christine," he said softly.

The girl shook her head. "It's no use. He's probably not the last one of the night," she said, a small frown appearing on her lips.

Erik stroked her hair lightly, feeling bad for her. Poor, lost girl. He hoped and prayed that no other men would come tonight. Christine was already exhausted from a long night, she didn't need anyone else coming for a 'visit'.

Christine slowly sat up, using the sheet to cover herself. She rested her head on Erik's shoulder, closing her tired eyes. "Why must things be like this? Why did I have to choose this life?"

Erik could hear how broken she was. He knew she did not want to give herself up to strangers every night, but she felt like she had no other choice. He gently wrapped his arms around her, bringing her closer to him.

Christine sighed deeply. "That wasn't making love," she mumbled. "He was just another man looking to relieve his lust." She opened her eyes and looked up at Erik. "I'm sorry you had to be here for that. I'll try my hardest to make sure it doesn't happen again."

The girl closed her eyes once more, nuzzling her head back into his shoulder. Her nose brushed against his neck, sending a chill through Erik's spine. He pulled the girl into his lap, letting her rest there. She did not exactly sleep, but she was not awake. Erik did not mind. He kept her close to him, letting her rest for as long as she wanted.

* * *

Christine reopened her eyes about twenty minutes later. She shifted her body, wrapping her arms around Erik's torso. He looked down at her, smiling slightly to himself.

"Christine… what was that you put outside the door when the Spaniard came in?" he asked, stroking her hair once more.

She slowly lifted her head up. "Oh, I forgot. That just basically means I'm busy with a customer. When the others see it, they know not to bother me. I should go bring it back inside." She began to get up, but Erik stopped her.

"Leave it. As long as it's out there, you won't be bothered. While it's out there, you can clean yourself up and relax a little more. You've endured enough tonight," Erik spoke softly into her ear. Christine looked up at him.

"You don't understand the life of a courtesan, do you?"

Erik frowned. "Christine, you deserve a night off. Come, I will draw you a bath and you may clean up."

The girl shook her head. "A courtesan provides her services until closing time, Erik. I am supposed to be open for another two hours. I have to provide my services or I will be in trouble. I'm sorry, but that's how it works…"

She got up from his lap, wrapping the sheet around herself and padding over to the door. She opened it and picked up the paper. Before she could close the door, she was stopped by a voice.

"Madame, I assume you are still open?" the man said. Erik quickly darted back under the table.

Christine returned to her act. "Oh, of course, Monsieur. Do come in. I apologize for the lack of order in the room…"

Before she could finish speaking, the door was closed and her sheet was removed. Erik watched as the man forced her to the bed, removing his clothes while doing so. Christine went along with it, letting the man do as he wished. After all, it was her job.

Erik sighed. _'Will this madness ever end?'_

* * *

The man finished with Christine rather quickly, dropping some coins on the bedside table before leaving. As soon as the door shut, Erik got out from under the table. He went to Christine, wrapping her in the sheet once more and picking her up. He noticed a small spot of blood on the sheet. "Christine…" he said, looking down at the spot in shock.

She sighed. "It happens sometimes when they're rough," she mumbled, keeping her eyes shut.

Erik shook his head. That was ridiculous. He wouldn't let her endure any more pain tonight. He picked her up, carrying her to the small bathroom. He set her down, letting her stand as he filled the tub. Christine did not argue, for she was too tired.

Erik filled the tub with warm water and soap to make bubbles. He exited the bathroom, giving Christine her privacy.

The masked man returned to her bedchamber. He looked around at the mess the two men had made. The blankets and pillows were thrown from the bed and random coins had been put on the tables. Erik sighed and began to remake Christine's bed, finding that the sheet Christine had wrapped herself in was not the only one that had blood on it. Her other two sheets also had dark red stains, though there's were from previous events.

He couldn't help but notice that most of the blood stains were towards the top of the sheets. That was odd, why would they be towards the top?

Erik tried not to think about it much. He continued to make her bed, gently pulling the sheets and blankets back to where they belonged. He straightened her pillows, then took a look at the bed. It looked much nicer, almost like nothing had happened in it that night. Erik took a seat across the room on her divan, waiting for her to finish her bath.

After a few more minutes of silence, Erik decided to check on Christine. He knocked twice on the door, waiting for her to either open it or say something. When neither happened, he took it upon himself to enter.

He slowly opened the door, peeking his head in slightly. "Christine?" he called quietly, slowly glancing over at the bath. He saw her with her eyes closed and head tipped back.

Erik panicked and quickly went to the bath. He saw her chest rising and falling softly, indicating that she had just fallen asleep.

"Oh, Christine…" he said softly, shaking his head. He began to drain the water as he lifted her out of the tub. Erik grabbed a towel and quickly dried her off. She was beautiful. Her skin was glowing bright like the morning sun and her lips were like two red rose petals. She was the equivalent of a beautiful spring day. He took a moment to gaze at her before he carried her back into the bedchamber. He set her gently on her bed, careful not to wake her up. Erik looked around, trying to find something to dress her in. He spotted a small armoire in the corner. He went to it, opening it and quickly going through its contents.

He found that Christine was only given one night gown. The rest of the armoire consisted of two day dresses and many 'costumes'. Erik frowned and removed the nightgown. It was sheer, lacey, and short. The thing would hardly cover her! Nevertheless, Erik slipped her into it. It was not a typical nightgown you would see in a clothing store. It was tight and revealing, not modest and flowy like most. Erik felt bad that this was the only thing she was given to sleep in. Certainly it was not the easiest garment to lie in.

Erik ignored the nightgown and pulled back the covers of the bed. He placed Christine beneath them, gently laying her head on a pillow. He tucked her in, allowing himself to gently plant a kiss on her forehead.

'_Sweet dreams, Mon Ange.'_


	5. Christine's Nightmare

That night, Christine dreamt of her past. Her dream started out peaceful and happy, but soon turned to a nightmare.

It started with a young Christine, not a day over ten years old. She was listening to her father as he played his violin for her. She'd dance around, giggling and smiling as he'd play his music.

Her father was the kindest man on Earth. He'd taken care of Christine all by himself. Her mother had died when she was very, very young, and ever since, he father's world had revolved around his daughter. Christine and her father were best friends; they did everything together. They would read and play and dance, and at the end of the day, he would always sing her to sleep.

But that all ended when her father died a few days before Christine's sixteenth birthday. It had been sudden; he had been a little ill for a while, but no one thought he'd die. After it happened, Christine had no one. Her only friends were Raoul and Meg, and they had both had moved away. Christine was lost and afraid without her father. She fled from her current home in northern France, heading for Paris. She'd heard about Paris, even been there once. To her, the people in Paris seemed happy, wealthy. She felt that if she went there, she would be safe again.

Unfortunately, that was not the case. When pretty, young Christine finally got to Paris, she was not seen as a poor, lost child. She was a bum, an object. She'd gotten lost in Paris and ended up on the wrong side of town. Instead of going into the heart of Paris, where employment awaited, she ended up in the darker part of Paris: The Red Light district.

When Christine arrived in the Red Light district, she was hungry, cold, and poor. She'd wandered in around dusk, stumbling down the uneven cobblestone roads. She'd seen men looking at her, whispering about her. Most of them wondered what a young beaut like he was doing around here at this time of night.

Christine found that the men were not concerned for her. They wanted her, lusted for a young one like she. Christine remembered when a man had grabbed her, shoving her against the wall and touching her. He'd asked her how much she charged, causing her to cry. The man had shoved her to the ground after that, leaving her on the cold ground in the dark.

A woman had found her then. The woman looked nothing like any of the women that lived in Christine's old town. She had dark makeup on her face and her platinum blonde hair was styled up in curls. Her chest was pushed up and almost completely out of her dress. She knelt down besides Christine, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, pauvre fille," she'd said, "What is a young child like you doing here at this time of night?"

Christine had looked up, tears running down her face. "I… My father passed and I am alone," She said, her voice breaking mid-sentence. The woman had brushed the tears from Christine's swollen eyes.

"Dearie, but why do you cry? If you need some help, I know a lot of girls who would love to help you."

Christine looked down at her now dirty dress. "A-A man… gra-grabbed me…" she stuttered. Christine began to weep again, feeling like that man had taken something from her.

The woman kissed Christine's head. "Oh, sweetheart, come with me, let's get you off of the street like this," she'd said, pulling Christine to her feet. Christine felt safe with the woman, wrapping her arms around the woman's waist and hugging her tightly. The blonde had pulled Christine to her, laying Christine's head on her shoulder.

"You mustn't be afraid, love. I'll take care of you."

She'd taken Christine inside a building at the end of the road. The building was bright and the music was loud, which startled Christine a bit. What was this place?

"Oh, dear, I never caught your name. You do have a name, don't you?" the woman asked, turning to her.

She nodded. "Christine," she said quietly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

The woman smiled. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Christine. You may call me Scarlet, everyone does. Now come this way, I'll bring you to my boss. I'm sure she'd be happy to help you."

Scarlet lead Christine up a set of stairs and down a hallway until a door appeared. Scarlet knocked, then opened the door. "Marie, have you got a moment?"

A thin woman with dark blonde hair turned around. She wore a shorter dress that came to her knees and high heeled shoes. She titled her head slightly, glancing at Scarlet, then Christine. "Scarlet… who is this?"

Scarlet gently patted Christine's back. "This is Christine. I found her out on the streets, all alone and upset. She said a man had grabbed her and tried to do bad things to her, and I said I'd take care of her."

Marie looked Christine up and down, then took a step forward. "Sweetheart, do you know how to dance?" she asked.

Christine's eyes lit up a bit. "Oh yes, my father and I used to dance every day," she said, letting a small smile appear on her face.

Marie smiled back at her. "Well, in that case, Scarlet, why don't you go help Christine find some new clothes that would fit her? She is quite a small girl, but I'm sure we'll have something."

Scarlet frowned. "Christine, would you take a step into the hall for a moment? I'd like to have a word with Ms. Marie."

Christine nodded and quickly went to the hall. When the door closed, she listened carefully.

"Marie, you cannot be planning to make her a dancer! I will not let you have a young girl like her sleeping around!"

"Scarlet, please. At her age, she gets to choose what she wants to do and what she doesn't. I would never make her sleep with a man if she was not comfortable. It's her choice. If she wants to do it for the extra money, she can. It's not up to me. As for her dancing, there is no harm in having her dance in the background! I mean, it's not a big deal anyway, she's got to grow up somehow!"

Christine heard Scarlet gasp. "How dare you, Marie. She is only a child, do not think of her as anything but that! I will take care of her. I may not be the best role model, but I will treat her well. Do not make her do anything, Marie."

The older woman scuffed. "I know, Scarlet. Now go, dress her in proper attire."

The door then opened and Christine looked down, pretending that she wasn't listening. Scarlet took Christine's arm gently and lead her down the stairs. "Come on, dear. I'll find you something to wear."

Christine had been taken to a storage room filled with costumes. Scarlet had spent hours finding some clothes that would fit Christine. Most of the clothes were revealing or tight, making Christine uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, my dear. I'm afraid that's all we've got that will fit you," she'd said. Christine had begun to silently cry again, feeling overexposed and afraid. Scarlet had comforted her and held her in an embrace. "I'll tell you what. I'll have our seamstress make you a pretty dress, perfect for a girl your age. How does that sound?"

Scarlet had quickly measured Christine and wrote the numbers on paper, leaving them for the seamstress. "You will have a new dress in a few days. Now, you must be very tired. I'll get you a nice room to stay in."

Scarlet had gotten Christine an empty room and helped her to bed. Christine didn't want Scarlet to leave, but she didn't want to seem like a child. She had a very difficult time sleeping that night, but finally fell asleep knowing that Scarlet would take care of her.

Christine's dream jumped ahead to a few months later. Christine had been taken care of and trained as a dancer. Scarlet did not like the fact that Christine was only sixteen and learning such vulgar movements that the older girls were doing, but she said nothing. Christine did not like it much either, for she dreamed of being a ballerina, not a dancer like this. But she kept quiet, for she needed the money and a place to stay.

But things changed quickly.

Christine turned seventeen in the spring and found that she needed more money. It was brought to her attention that soon she would need to be performing in shows to earn money. So she did. Her life was forever changed after that first show. Christine was an amazing dancer and had been put dancing at the front of the stage most of the night. So many people had seen her, watched her…

Marie had knocked on her door after the show.

"Christine… we need to talk."

Christine had gone to the door, only wearing her corset, bloomers, and dressing robe. "Yes, Madame?"

Marie stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. "My dear… you did wonderful tonight. Can I ask you something?"

Christine nodded. "Of course, anything!"

The woman pursed her lips. "I know you are in need of money. You are still in debt after burying your father. Well… there is a man in the hall who would like to pay you in exchange for…"

Christine's heart sunk. This couldn't be happening! She was no whore!

But she needed the money badly…

Marie spoke once more after seeing the fear in Christine's eyes. "I would never let a man hurt you, Christine, and if you don't want to do this, you don't have to. I'm just giving you a choice. It pays very well, for men who bed my girls are very rich. What would you like me to tell this gentleman?"

Christine looked down at the floor. The debt that hung over her head was rather large. It had taken a lot of money to have her father buried beside her mother and have their house given to the bank. Christine needed money more than anything.

"Tell him to come in."

The man took her innocence. He had slide off her garments and taken everything she had left. Her youth, her soul, her pride, her innocence. She was only seventeen…

* * *

Christine woke up crying, sitting straight up and screaming into the darkness. She grabbed at her hair, wanting to rip it out and fade away to nothing. She cried out again, tears spilling over her long lashes. Suddenly, she heard someone coming to her. She covered her face in fear, then found that there was no reason to be afraid.

She saw Erik coming to her, his eyes filled with fear. "Christine, what's happened?"

She closed her eyes and continued to cry. "Has God no mercy?" she cried, slamming her fists down on the mattress.

Erik quickly sat beside her, pulling her tightly to him. "Shh, Christine, it's alright, nothing will harm you," he said, stroking her hair. Christine's mind flooded with horrid memories of all the men after that night. She remembered nights where they'd beaten her for not being good enough. She'd remembered nights where they'd drugged her. There were even nights she didn't remember.

Christine began to lose control again, tilting her head back and letting out a long cry. Erik quickly brought her head back to his shoulder, stroking her back and trying to calm her.

"Christine, what has got you bothered so?" he asked, his concerned eyes gazing at her tear-stained face.

She took in deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She gripped onto Erik's shirt, needing to feel safe once more. "I-I… I dreamt of my past," she said, the last few tears falling from her eyes.

The corners of Erik's mouth slowly turned down a little. He gently planted a kiss on Christine's head, rocking her back and forth in his arms.

"Don't think about it, Christine. You must rest…" he said.

She shook her head. "They took everything from me. I have nothing, Erik. I _am_ nothing."

Erik turned her so she was looking him straight in the eyes. "Christine, do not say that. I promise you, I will return everything to you. Pride, honor, dignity, innocence, everything. I promise you, and I will keep my promise."

Christine slowly opened her eyes, gazing into his. The fear faded from her eyes and she hugged him tightly. "God Bless you, Erik," she whispered, burying her head into his shoulder.

He began to stroke her hair once more, gently kissing the side of her head.

"Erik… have you stayed since I first fell asleep?" she asked quietly, her fingers gently stroking the lapels on his jacket. A small lump formed in his throat.

"Yes, I wanted to make sure you slept alright," he said, feeling slightly embarrassed.

Christine shifted in his arms, bringing her face back up. She gently rested her forehead against Erik's mask. "I'm glad you stayed. Will you lay with me so I can sleep?"

The lump in Erik's throat grew a bit bigger. "I… If you insist…" he said nervously.

Christine's hands travelled down the lapels of his jacket, gently removing it from his body. She soon did the same with his waistcoat, making Erik even more nervous.

'_Oh Christine, not now!'_

But Christine had no intentions of that tonight. She just wished for him to be comfortable. Once she had taken off his waistcoat and unbuttoned a few buttons from his shirt, she had him lay on his back and snuggled up to his chest.

Erik slowly brought his arms around her, bringing her closer to him. He soon found her to be asleep. He smiled and stroked her hair, slowly drifting off to sleep himself.


	6. The Man Behind the Mask

Christine awoke the next morning, slightly surprised that there was still a man in her bed. That had only happened once or twice.

She looked down and saw it was Erik. She suddenly remembered why he was in her bed. She kissed the cheek of the sleeping man as a thanks for what he'd done. She gazed down at his face. His features were exquisite. His soft cheekbones clashed with his strong jawline, but it gave him the face of an angel! His jawline could cut diamonds; it was so strong and sharp!

Christine continued to study his face. His eyes were closed, but she remembered the color perfectly. His eyes were a golden color, and they twinkled in the darkness. He had dark, longer lashes that gave his eyes more dimension. His dark brows framed his eyes, and in his sleep, made his eyes look bright again.

She gently touched his cheek, bringing a small smile to his face.

'_He must be having a pleasant dream…' _she thought, smiling to herself.

She saw the slightest dimple near the corner of his mouth. She trailed her finger along the perimeter of his face, then slowly tracing the white mask that lay on the other half. What could this angel be hiding under that mask?

Christine grew curious. Why would he hide his identity from her? His true face?

She wasn't going to sit around and wonder.

She brought her dainty fingers to the edge of his mask, gently lifting it a bit. As she began to lift the corner near his jaw, a hand shot up and shoved hers away. The mask went flying and his eyes flew open.

"_No!_" he yelled.

Christine looked at his face and her jaw dropped. She screamed, quickly backing off of him and jumping off the bed.

His face was horrific. The skin was stretched near his mouth, a large spot of raw skin exposed near his hairline. His face had many dark crevices and ridges. His lip was swollen and stretched as well.

Erik's hand flew to his now bare distortion, covering it quickly as he sat up. He got up out of her bed and turned to her. "How dare you, Christine!" his voice boomed, bringing tears to Christine's eyes. "How… how dare you…"

His tone of voice went from rage to sadness. He turned from her, his hand still covering his face. Christine heard him making a strange, quiet noise… was he weeping? Had she done this to him, made him weep like so?

She looked over and saw the mask on the floor. Christine slowly went to it, picking it up and holding it in her delicate hands. She looked up to the man, her lip quivering as she said his name.

"E-Erik?" she said softly, holding out the mask.

He did not look at her. Instead, he held a hand out towards her. She gently placed the mask in his hand, looking down at her feet.

Erik slipped the mask back on, smoothing out his hair and making sure his deformity was completely covered. He turned to the side and began to walk to the door. "Goodbye, Christine," he said. "Thank you for your company, but it will no longer be needed."

Christine's head shot up and she lurched forward to stop him. "No, Erik!" she said, blocking the door. "No, don't leave, please! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that!"

"Christine, let me go," he growled. "I wish to leave, so you must let me."

She shook her head, her eyes filling with sorrow. "No, Erik, please! Just let me explain, please do not go!"

She brought her hands to his face, laying one on his cheek and the other on his mask. "Please…"

Erik grabbed her wrists and pulled her away from the door, throwing her to the side and opening the door.

Marie stood outside the door, pushing it open as Erik was pulling it. "Christine!" she had yelled. She ran into Erik, who caught her off guard.

She took a step back and looked at him. "_Erik_? What in God's name are you doing here?!" Anger filled her eyes.

Erik took in a deep breath. "Do not fret, Madame. I was just leaving. I will make sure that Miss Christine and I do not spend another night together."

He pushed past Marie and disappeared down the hall. Christine had jumped up from her bed and reached out the door. "Erik, please!" she cried as he disappeared in the darkness.

Marie grabbed Christine's shoulders and turned on the lights. "Christine, what on Earth was that? He spent the night with you!?"

Christine cried hysterically, unable to answer the question. She put her head in her hands and sunk to the floor. Marie crouched beside her, gently setting a hand on her back.

"Did he hurt you, Christine?" she asked quietly.

Christine shook her head furiously. "N-No, I hurt him, Marie," she cried. "Why did I have to take off that mask, Marie? Why didn't I just leave it be? I invaded his privacy, then screamed when I saw it!"

Marie held Christine in her arms, letting the young girl cry. "Oh Christine… I told you not to be around him. I knew you'd get to curious. I knew things wouldn't work out, Christine. You are a courtesan, he is a composer. You are not meant to be."

Christine shook her head. "I want to see him again. I can still do my business, I just want to see him. Please, Marie…"

Marie frowned. "Christine… we both know that isn't a good idea."

The young girl looked down at her lap, letting the tears fall onto her nightgown. "Please…"

Marie sighed. "I will talk to him, Christine, but I cannot make any promises. I will try my best to get you one more visit."

Marie stood then, going towards the door. She stopped when the girl said her name.

"Marie… thank you for helping me," she said softly.

Marie nodded, leaving the room and making her way down the hall.

* * *

Erik quickly left Mademoiselle's, darting out into the early morning light. He couldn't believe she'd done that! Removed his mask while he was in his sleep! She had no right!

He burst through the front door of his flat, throwing his jacket down on the floor and going to the piano. He banged on the keys, letting the air be filled with a dark cord. Damn her! How dare she!

He got up and went to the mirror on his wall. He looked at his reflection, then slowly took off his mask. Gazing at his bare, repulsive face, he began to understand why Christine had taken it off. The unmasked side of his face looked so normal, why would he have to hide the other side?

Christine was so young, so curious… no wonder she'd taken it off.

Nevertheless, Erik was still upset. When she'd seen him, she'd screamed. Just like everyone else. He'd scared her, made her cry, and now he'd left her to wallow in her fear. He hated this world. Why couldn't he be seen like a normal man? He was a human, wasn't he? He was just a man!

Erik threw his mask to the floor, shattering the porcelain. He didn't care, he had plenty of other ones. He stomped on the mask as a child would. "Damn her! Damn this world! Why must God show no mercy on me?"

He remembered last night when Christine had said almost those exact words. She told him she had dreamt of her past. Could her past be as bad as his?

No. There was no way. His past was the worst of any man and his future would not be much brighter.

Erik remembered his childhood. His childhood was not an easy or pleasantly good one. He had been left in the care of his horrid mother, who was repulsed by him. Erik's father was never around. His mother would lock him away, making him wear masks to hide his hideous face. She didn't even realize how beautiful her son truly was.

Erik could recall nights where she would send him away without supper, calling him ugly or a demon. He would never cry, just accept what he was told he was.

Erik's mother was a horrid woman. She was beautiful, and she was obsessed with beauty. She hated the fact that her only child was hideous. She'd treated him like an animal, and finally Erik had gotten tired of it. He'd run away from home, never to return again.

After he'd left his home, he'd spent time in a freak show. He was called "the devil's child" and trapped behind bars at other people's amusement. His time in the freak show was not all spent badly, though. During the night, the other 'freaks' taught him magic, illusions, and music. He soon became very popular among the others. They found that he was extremely gifted and had many talents.

Erik was soon sent to the Shah of Persia. The Shah soon found that Erik was not only a skilled magician and musician; he was also a skilled architect. The Shah had Erik build him a palace filled with secret halls and trap doors. The palace was a thing of beauty and secrecy. Not a word went unheard inside, making it an excellent place to spy.

And Erik did just that. He was hired as a spy and assassin. Erik was given his Punjab Lasso, and with it, killed people that got in the Shah's way.

Erik never wanted to kill anyone, but it was his job. As long as he did his job, he would be safe.

Or, so he thought.

Soon, the Shah ordered Erik to be blinded. He wanted to make sure he would be the only one who got to have one of Erik's magnificent palaces. Erik escaped with the help of a daroga, who soon became a friend to Erik.

With the daroga's help, Erik fled to Paris. Once in Paris, he stopped building and designing. He stuck to composing. After spending nearly fifteen years with the Shah, he had no desire to build anymore. So he sold compositions and eventually found work where he was now.

Erik was still consumed with memories of his days as an assassin. All the people he'd killed. He never truly wanted to kill, but he had to! He was a good man, deep down.

But none of it mattered. He couldn't change the monster that he was.

He sulked back to the piano, wasting the day away playing sad songs.

* * *

Night fell over Paris. Erik got up from the piano and put his jacket back on. He didn't want to, but he had to go to work. It was a day that he usually dropped music off to Marie. He had to.

He went out the door and made his way to Mademoiselle's. The street was rather empty, as usual, but something was different. The line outside of Mademoiselle's was longer than usual. Then he saw why. The Vicomte had a rather large group of his friends along with him. Erik frowned. The Vicomte was most likely showing off Christine to his 'pals'.

Erik went through the side door. He didn't need to pay; he wasn't seeing the show tonight. He went immediately up to Marie's office, knocking twice and entering.

"I have the compositions, Marie. That's all," he muttered, opening the briefcase and pulling out the papers.

Marie looked up at him. "Erik… I need to talk to you," she said, her voice stern.

"I don't have time, Marie. I want to get out of here before the show begins—"

She grabbed his arm. "Erik, listen to me. She wants to see you again."

Erik turned to her, not exactly believing what he was hearing. How could she want to see him again? She screamed and cried at the sight of him!

"No. I will not, I cannot," he mumbled, pulling his arm from her.

Marie stood up from her chair. "Erik, she cried all morning for you. She is still in her room and has informed me that if you are not here, she will not go out onstage. She won't do a thing! All day, she's been crying about how awful she feels, and that she meant no harm! Come on, Erik, you've got to help her out."

Erik turned away. Was this true? Did she really feel bad? "She meant no harm? Then why would she scream like that?" he muttered.

Marie frowned. "She is young, Erik. She is a sheepish, shy, innocent young girl. She was just caught off guard. You've got to forgive her. At least stay until the show's over."

Erik sighed. He felt bad for Christine, but she had done this to herself! It wasn't his fault!

Even so, he felt like he had to help a little.

"Fine," he said. "But I am not going to sit amongst those pigs. I will be seated in here, watching through the glass."

With that, Marie nodded. "I'll go tell her. Thank you, Erik." The woman left the office, leaving Erik alone. Erik sat back in the chair, looking down at the stage. He adjusted his mask and fixated his eyes on the top platform, the one Christine always entered on.

* * *

Someone knocked on the door. Christine wiped her eyes and pressed her face into the pillow. Her bed still smelled like him.

The knocking continued. "What?" Christine mumbled, not bringing her head up.

"Christine… he's here."

She opened her eyes and slowly looked up. Marie stood in her doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. "He is going to be watching the show from my office. I hope you are aware that in ten minutes, you are to be on that stage. You better hurry, darling. He is waiting."

Marie left then, leaving Christine alone. She quickly got up and ran to the armoire, pulling out another studded leotard. This one had made her chest seem larger, which made Christine blush a little as she put it on. She strapped on her high heels and quickly put makeup on her face before running backstage.

'_He's watching…'_

She peeked out of the curtain and glanced up at the glass the surrounded Marie's office.

There he sat, his hands folded in his lap, and his white mask shining in the dark office.

Christine took in a deep breath before stepping onstage.


	7. A Call in the Night

Raoul watched as Christine took to the stage. She looked quite different, time had changed her. She looked much older and her body looked… fuller. Her chest and backside looked as if they had gotten a bit bigger. She was dressed in an outfit he'd never thought he'd ever see her wear. Her breasts looked as if they were about to burst out of the top of her leotard, and the leotard hugged her backside in a weird way. The Christine he knew would have never even let her knees show!

He continued to watch as she writhed against the stage. Why had she changed so much? What had happened to his Little Lotte? She used to be such a good girl. Never in a million years did he think that he would find her in a Gentlemen's Club!

All of Raoul's friends made awful remarks about Christine. They called her sexual names and talked about what they wished they could do to her. Raoul was furious. That was his friend up there!

He turned to his group, telling them all to be quiet. "That is Christine! Do _not_ speak of her that way!"

They all murmured amongst each other. Raoul sat back, horrified of what Christine was doing to herself. She was dancing against another dancer now, a male who looked more than happy to be rubbing himself against her. Christine purred like a cat, letting the male dancers touch her and arouse the audience. The men cheered and Raoul grew angrier.

How could Christine let the men holler at her this way? The Christine he knew would have never taken this.

Raoul couldn't watch anymore. He spent the remainder of the show stirring his drink. When the show ended, he left his friends and went back to the dressing rooms. He found the door with Christine's name on it and knocked twice.

* * *

Christine heard a knocking on her door. The person had knocked twice!

'_Erik!'_

She hurried to the door, pulling it open quickly. Her heart sunk when she saw that it was not Erik outside the door, but Raoul.

"Raoul… what are you doing here?" she asked, looking down.

"Christine… I think the better question is what are _you_ doing here?"

Christine let Raoul in, slipping the paper under the door so they wouldn't be interrupted. She sat on her bed while Raoul took a seat on the divan. "Raoul… how did you find me?" she asked, wringing her hands like a nervous child.

He looked over at her. "I came to the club after my brother told me I needed a night out. He and I came yesterday and I saw you up there. Christine, why are you doing this to yourself? We both know that the true Christine would never do this."

Christine looked back down at her lap, feeling ashamed of herself. "After father died, I needed the money… you know I couldn't have made it on my own, Raoul."

He scuffed. "Christine, you could have come live with me! You knew I lived in Paris; I would have been more than happy to take care of you! I could have at least given you the money you needed!"

She shook her head. "No, Raoul, I didn't want your money! I didn't need you to take care of me! I'm fine where I am, even if it's not the best job in the world. You don't need to take care of me, Raoul. I am not a child anymore!"

Raoul frowned at her. "What happened to sweet, young, innocent Christine? My Little Lotte?"

His words stabbed her like a dagger. "Don't call me that, Raoul. Please," she mumbled.

Christine could see Raoul getting frustrated. "You know what? Fine, Christine. I came back to help you, but since you seem not to need any help from me, I'll go. If you suddenly need me, you know where to find me."

He got up and stormed out of the room. "Raoul, wait!" she called, going after him. But it was too late. He was gone.

Christine slumped back to her room. Now she had drove Erik _and_ Raoul away. But maybe she still had a chance to get Erik's friendship back. He had stayed and watched the show, maybe he would come to her room after all!

She wasn't going to take a chance and let him leave.

Christine ran out of her bedchamber, passing all the men waiting to sleep with her. She ran out of the dormitories, making her way to Marie's office. She burst through the door, finding Marie and Erik sitting and having a glass of wine. They both turned to her as she caught her breath, still gripping onto the door handle.

"Christine… is everything alright?" Marie asked, setting her glass down.

Christine looked at Marie, then at Erik. Erik turned away from her, taking a sip of his wine.

"I… I wanted to invite Erik up to speak… before he left…" she said, biting her lip.

Marie turned to Erik, who remained silent and unmoved. He didn't look at Christine or even say a word to her. Christine's heart sank. Was he really that angry with her?

Her lip quivered as she sucked in air through her nose. Marie frowned, standing and going to Christine. She gently touched her arms. "I'm sure Monsieur Erik would like to speak once you've finished your night's work. The sooner you go get to work, the sooner he may come," she said.

Christine looked down sadly, then nodded. She turned and left the office, closing the door behind her. She sulked back to her room, putting on her act once more to please the men waiting by her door.

* * *

Marie turned to Erik, a disappointed look painting her face. "Erik, look at her. She misses you and you wouldn't even say hello to her! That is no way to treat a friend."

Erik scuffed. "She sure treated me like a great friend when she screamed at the sight of my face."

"Erik! You know she didn't mean it! She's apologized, she's tried to speak to you, she cried all day about it! What more do you want from the poor child?" Marie's voice was filled with anger. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Oh, dear Marie, do not give me that look. I do not want anything from Christine, which is why I'm not going to see her. The damage is done. I will be leaving after I have another glass of wine and finish discussing new compositions with you, and that is that."

Marie could not believe her ears. How could he be so ignorant? But she just shook her head and sat down. "Sometimes I wonder why I even try with you, Erik."

Erik shrugged. "Sometimes I wonder that, too."

A bitter silence filled the air as Marie took a sip of wine. "Erik, just please, think about it. She really does miss you."

The masked man furrowed his brows. "I thought you didn't want her seeing me in the first place!"

Marie shrugged her shoulders. "At this point, as long as you aren't bedding her, I don't mind if you see each other once she's done with work."

Another silence. Erik poured himself another glass of wine. "I can tell this is going to be one long night," he muttered.

* * *

After he finished his work with Marie, Erik left Mademoiselle's. He had stayed a bit longer than he'd planned to and it was now close to two in the morning. He walked along the side of Mademoiselle's, trekking through the dark to get home. He was startled when he heard someone calling his name.

He looked up, wondering who could be calling for him this late at night. Suddenly, a window from the top floor of the building flew open. "Erik!" the voice called.

_Christine._

She was naked, a thin sheet barely covering the front of her body. Her hair was messed up and damp in spots, her makeup nearly ruined.

"Please, don't go!" she said. "Just… wait there!"

She disappeared from the window and Erik furrowed his brows. What was this girl doing? He remained in the street, feeling as though he couldn't leave. He soon heard the front doors of Mademoiselle's opening and closing and Christine ran around the corner, the sheet wrapped around her like a blanket.

Erik's eyes widened. What in God's name was she thinking?!

"Christine! Get back inside! You're… You're not decent!" he said, as she got closer.

The young girl stopped a few feet in front of him, catching her breath. "I don't care! I wish to speak with you, Erik."

Her chocolate eyes were very tired. She panted, clutching the sheet tightly against her chest. Her lips were swollen and she had strange marks on her neck and shoulders. Erik could tell she'd had another rough night.

"Will you speak to me, Erik?" she asked quietly, her eyes filled with hope.

Erik sighed. "Fine, Christine. Just… get back inside, alright? You should not be out this late, especially dressed as you are."

She smiled and grabbed his hand, pulling him back inside. Erik scrambled to keep the sheet on her body, as it was quickly slipping off as she pulled him. Erik grabbed the sheet, bunching it up in his fist so it wouldn't fall.

"Walk slower, Christine. If you go any faster, you'll be caught bare naked in the lobby," he muttered. Christine obeyed, slowing down a bit.

They finally made it up to Christine's bedchamber. Christine pushed open the door, revealing her once again destroyed room. Erik looked around in horror. The bed was completely unmade and the pillow that once rested on the divan was near the armoire. Her dressing table mirror had been turned over and all her makeup lay either face down on the table or on the floor. The rug was scrunched up in some areas and the room was dark.

Christine stood before Erik, scratching her head slightly. "There was five tonight," she said softly. "Each one more violent and lustful than the next."

Erik's heart broke a little for Christine. The moonlight shining through the window shone onto her like a spotlight. He could see dark marks and bruises peeking out from the top of the sheet. He slowly made his way to her, pulling down the sheet a little. He gently brought his hand to her chest, running his thumb over one of the dark marks. He looked up and his eyes met hers.

"There's plenty more than that," she said quietly, her eyes and voice taking on a sad tone.

Erik hesitantly pulled her sheet down even further, exposing her breasts. A few more spots appeared on her breasts and underneath them, though most of the marks underneath them were bruises. He gently touched her breast and a small sigh slipped from her lips. He quickly looked up to her, removing his hand.

Christine shook her head lightly. "It's okay, Erik. You are not harming me," she whispered, her eyes gazing into his.

Erik slowly returned his hand to her breast, lowering the sheet with his other hand. He exposed her stomach and let the sheet rest around her hips. There was a slightly bigger mark on her hip. Erik looked up at Christine's face. "Christine… that one is new," he whispered.

She nodded. "One of the men was fairly rough with me," she remarked.

He sighed. Her body was scarred, bruised, marked…

_Just as he was._

The realization hit Erik like a ton of bricks. When Christine had torn his mask off, she had revealed his deformity. She had seen his scars and his marks, and even though she recoiled, she saw them. She accepted them.

Erik was doing the same. He was revealing the marks on her body and he was accepting them. Maybe he hadn't recoiled as she had, but he was still revealing her.

He looked back up at Christine, his golden eyes locking on hers. "I'm so sorry, Christine. I should have never treated you like that, ignoring you and pushing you away. I was an awful friend to you. You were just curious and I left because of it! Oh God, Christine… I am a monster…"

Christine brought a hand up to his unmasked cheek. "You are no monster, Erik. I am sorry that I did that. But now I know… and I am not afraid. I promise you, I am not afraid of you."

Erik's heart came alive in his chest. "Christine… would you stay the night with me? I could bring you to my flat, I feel you would be more comfortable there than here…"

The young girl nodded. "Of course, Erik. Would you like me to grab some clothing first?"

A blush appeared on Erik's face. He quickly wrapped the sheet back around her. "I will grab some things for you, you just wait here," he said, turning to her armoire.

He collected one of her day dresses and her corset, chemise, and bloomers. He handed them off to Christine, who tightly gripped the sheet back around herself. "I will take you there. You rest for a little while," he whispered, swinging her into his arms.

Christine's head immediately went to his shoulder as she rested her eyes. Erik snuck her out of Mademoiselle's, ducking into the darkness and heading towards his flat, guided by the light of the moon.


	8. Morning Light

Erik carried Christine over the threshold, bringing her into the parlor. She slowly lifted her head off his shoulder, looking around the room. It was rather dark, but she could still make out the shapes of some furniture. Erik set her on a dark red divan that sat before a large window. Around the room she saw a couple of chair and small tables, a small fireplace, and a grand piano. She turned to Erik.

"You must be a very good player," she said, looking back towards the piano.

Erik set down Christine's clothing on one of the chairs, then followed her gaze to the piano. "You could say that. I have been playing for a very long time."

Christine sat up a little. "How long?"

Erik tensed. He slowly looked towards Christine, wringing his hands nervously. "Nearly twenty-five years…" he gulped.

Christine's eyebrows rose a little as she looked at him. "Erik… how old are you?" she asked. There was no fear or even concern in her voice, but Erik still felt nervous.

He looked down and sat on the piano bench, staring at his shoes. He swallowed and wet his lips a little before speaking. "I… I'm nearly twice your age, Christine," he mumbled.

Christine's eyes widened a little. She knew he was older than her, but not that much older. He looked so young! She couldn't believe he was in his thirties!

Erik must have seen the shock on her face. He frowned slightly, looking away from her. His face was sad and he looked defeated. Christine quickly got up and sat beside him on the bench.

"Erik… I don't care what age you are. It doesn't change how I feel about you," she whispered, gently touching his unmasked face with her small fingers.

He looked up at her. "It… it doesn't?"

Christine shook her head, smiling at him. "No. Nothing could change my feelings for you, Erik. Nothing at all."

Her words shocked Erik. Nothing? Not even his age or a distorted face? He gazed at Christine in amazement. Why had God sent him an angel like her? He did not deserve her, yet she was here with him. Maybe God did show mercy on poor Erik!

Christine got up from the bench and lit a candle that sat on the piano. The light of the small flame illuminated their tired faces. Christine's hand slowly went to Erik's mask. He quickly grabbed her hand, stopping her from removing the mask.

"Erik… please. I promise you that I am not afraid," she added. Erik slowly released her hand and closed his eyes, not wanting to see her recoil at his ugliness.

She slowly lifted the mask, letting the light highlight the dips and curves of his distortion. She set the mask on the piano, gazing at his unmasked face. Christine's dainty fingers traced his jawline as she examined the distortion. "Does it hurt?" she asked quietly.

Erik shook his head gently. "No, I feel no pain," he murmured, his golden eyes locking on Christine's beautiful face.

Christine gently pressed her soft lips to his marred cheek. Erik's heart fluttered in his chest. She had kissed him! This beautiful creature had kissed him!

Erik couldn't help but smile. He was the happiest man on earth, for he had been kissed by an angel!

Christine stood then, taking his hand in hers. "Erik, where do you sleep?" she asked, looking around the room. She pulled him up off the bench and up on his feet.

Erik gestured towards the hall. "The room at the end of the hall is my bedchamber. I will show you."

He led her down the hall. Opening the large, oak door and letting her in. Christine entered, gazing in awe at the room.

There was a large canopy bed in the middle of the room. It was covered in a large, dark red blanket and the canopy was covered in matching curtains. The floor and bed were made of the same dark wood, pulling the room together nicely. There was a stone fireplace near the bed and the flames were low and bright. Another divan was in the corner near another large window and a dark armoire sat against the wall.

"Erik, it's beautiful," she said, smiling brightly. It was a little dark for her liking, but she liked it nevertheless.

"Thank you. I've been told I have a good taste in decoration," he smirked. He turned back to Christine. "Oh, Christine, you should put something on. You must be cold and the sheet is rather… dirty. Here, I will give you privacy if you'd like it."

Christine shook her head. "No, the room is warm! The fire is plenty. I don't want to dress until morning."

The girl was odd, but Erik didn't question her. He changed the subject instead. "You must be tired, Christine. You shall sleep in my bed. I'll leave you to get ready to sleep." He headed for the door, but Christine stopped him.

"You'll be joining me, won't you?" she asked.

His heart sped up a little. "I… I think I should find the parlor comfortable for the night," he stuttered. Christine frowned.

"Please?" she begged, her bottom lip jetting out.

With a sigh and a nod, Erik agreed. "Fine. I'll be to bed in a few moments; I'll let you prepare for bed first." He left the room and waited in the hallway.

She was going to be sleeping in _his_ bed! And even better, he would be sleeping beside her once again! He could not contain his happiness.

After a few minutes, he heard the bed shifting and slowly reopened the door. He saw Christine in bed, her head on the pillow and eyes closed.

Erik smiled. She was a picture of beauty. He went to the armoire and removed his jacket and waistcoat. He usually just slept in his breeches, but he didn't know if Christine would be comfortable with him like that.

He eventually decided that he would sleep as he usually did. Knowing Christine and her line of work, he knew she wouldn't mind. He undressed, standing before the armoire in just his breeches. He slowly went to his bed, not wanting to wake Christine.

Erik climbed in under the covers, sliding in beside Christine. His eyes widened as he found she was not asleep… and she was naked as the day she was born.

His heart pounded in his chest as she turned to him. Her eyes were very tired and so was her smile. Her words were soft as she spoke. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm far too tired to get dressed," she mumbled, snuggling up to him.

Erik could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks as he felt her warm skin press against his chest. She curled up to him, laying her head right under his chin. He was frozen. He'd never had a woman in his bed before, much less one who was _nude_! His heart raced as he lay limp and nervous.

Christine's hands soon found his, placing one of his hands on her thigh and the other on her side. She smiled and rested her hands on his chest before drifting off to sleep. Erik took a deep breath and began to gently stroke her skin. Her body relaxed at his touch.

Soon, Erik fell asleep cradling the angel in his arms.

* * *

The morning light shone through the window, right onto Erik, waking him up. He sat up and stretched his arms, glancing over to the clock.

9:25.

'_9:25?! I'm late!'_

He jumped out of bed, hurrying to the armoire and quickly dressing. He quickly tucked his shirt into his trousers as he ran out of the bedchamber. He suddenly remembered that he had not slept alone last night. Where was Christine?

"Christine?" he called, going down the hall to the parlor. Erik saw his mask still sitting on the piano and quickly put it on. "Christine? Are you still here?"

He waited in silence for a few moments until a voice came from the kitchen. "I'm still here! I've made tea for you!"

Erik looked toward the kitchen and smiled. She'd stayed!

He went to the kitchen and found her standing by the preparation table, pouring two cups of tea from the kettle. She was dressed in a sky blue day dress that had mid quarter sleeves and a white collar. Her chocolate curls flowed over her back and shoulders and her face was bare. Erik smiled. She looked just like a normal girl you would see in the better parts of Paris.

She looked a bit like a _wife_.

"Erik?" she said, giggling a little. "Would you like your tea or not?"

Erik snapped back into reality. "Ah, yes, thank you…" he said, taking the cup from her. He led Christine into the dining hall and took a seat at the table. Christine took the seat beside him, setting her cup on the saucer.

"You look very nice this morning, Christine," Erik said, taking a closer look at her.

A smile appeared on her young face. "Why thank you. I like being able to dress like this, it makes me feel much more proper."

Erik returned the smile. She was stunning. She looked much more youthful, more alive than usual. "I think you look happier in normal day gowns, Christine," he said, taking a sip of his tea.

Christine played with one of her curls. "Because I am happier," she said, twisting the curl around her finger.

Erik adjusted his mask a little. "After we finish tea, we should be getting you back to Mademoiselle's. I don't know how happy Marie will be if she knows you spent the night here," he stated.

The young girl shrugged her shoulders. "Well, we didn't make love and I provided you with no services. I don't see an issue." She sipped her tea and Erik rose his eyebrow slightly.

"Yes, but you were sleeping my bed. _Naked_."

Christine giggled a little. "Well, that part can remain our secret."

Erik laughed a little. "You really did catch me off guard with your lack of clothing. First you ran after me in the street wearing just a sheet, then you surprised me when I went to bed. Just didn't feel like dressing, huh?" he teased her with a wink.

A small blush spread upon Christine's cheeks. "Well, when I was going to change into my nightgown, I saw you out the window. I couldn't let you get away. So I just went to you without a thought. Now, as for last night in bed… I guess I just kind of wanted to see your reaction."

Erik raised his eyebrows again, but this time he threw in a smirk. "Is that so?"

She nodded, biting her bottom lip. "I'm just being honest. You're the first man who hasn't just shown interest in me so you can spread my legs apart. You're kind to me, Erik. I love you."

Wait a moment.

'_Did she just say…'_

"What was that?" he asked, his heart speeding up.

Christine looked back over at him and smiled. "Nothing. Now come on, we should be getting back." She stood and left the room, waiting for Erik to meet her in the parlor.

Erik sat in shock. Did he hear her right? Did she just say she _loved _him?

No way. He must've just been hearing things. No one had ever told Erik they'd loved him.

"Erik! Are you coming, or am I going by myself?"

Erik quickly got up from the table, setting his teacup aside. "Coming!" he called as he joined her in the parlor. He gently laid his hand on the small of her back, leading her out of the flat and down the stairs. He took her out of the building and together they stepped into the morning light.

The pair was not expecting what they saw when they entered Mademoiselle's.


	9. Blood on Her Lips

As soon as the front doors open, all heads turned to Erik and Christine. There was an officer and an inspector before Marie, in the middle of asking her questions. Marie saw Christine and immediately went to her.

"Christine! I was worried sick about you!" she said, throwing her arms around the girl.

Christine's eyes widened. "Marie… what is going on?"

The woman released her, taking a step back. "You were not in your bed this morning, and when I asked the girls where you were, no one knew. Christine, we thought something had happened to you!"

Christine scowled. "Marie, you knew I was going to see Erik last night! There was no need for all this! Is this a joke, Marie? Because I am not laughing!"

Marie frowned. "Christine, that is no way to speak to me. We were concerned about you. Now, go get ready for rehearsals, I don't want to hear a word from you or you're fired."

Christine was livid. "No! I don't want to go to rehearsal! I don't want to look like a whore anymore, Marie! I don't want to _be_ a whore anymore! Go ahead, fire me! I'll live out on the street, but at least I'll have a chance to be happier!"

Erik grabbed Christine's arm and turned her towards him. "Christine," he whispered, "Do not make rash decisions right now. Go get ready for rehearsal as you've been told. Trust me. I will speak to Marie."

Christine looked down and nodded. "Fine," she muttered, turning away and picking up her skirts. She made her way up to the staircase and disappeared into the dormitories.

Marie turned to Erik once Christine was gone. "What do you think you're doing, Erik? Taking her home with you like that? You're mad! What, did she give you a little more than she usually does with her other customers?"

Erik kept a level head. "Marie, I wish to speak in private about this," he said. He was not about to talk about this in front of two police men and all the dancers.

Marie grumbled something, then turned to the policemen. "My apologies. There is no need to question this man, that will be my job. I will pay my dues at the end of the week." The two men gave Erik a good stare down before leaving the building.

"My office, now," Marie demanded, stomping up the stairs.

* * *

Marie burst into the office and grabbed a pre-opened bottle of wine. She took a gulp, then stuck the cork back in the bottle and threw it behind her desk.

"You better have a damn good story, Erik, because I am not a happy woman right now."

Erik took a seat in one of the few chairs in Marie's office. "Well, all there is to say is she wanted to speak to me. She saw me out of her window and stopped me, then came to speak with me. I only took her back to my flat so she could get out of here for a while. Did you know she saw five men last night before she came with me? Have you seen her poor, beaten body? She's hiding bruises and marks under all that makeup and all the jewels, Marie. I did not bed Christine last night; I simply gave her a place to sleep for the night."

Marie scuffed. "Erik, I don't believe that! A few of the girls told me they saw you with Christine in the street last night. Another said she saw you two going into Christine's room. Do you know what all those girls said Christine was wearing? A _sheet._ A sheet, Erik! You expect me to believe that you got to spend the night with the lead dancer, who just happened to be _stark_ _naked_, and you didn't bed her? You are truly mad!"

Now Erik was furious. How dare she accuse him of that!

"Marie, I did not bed her! I used none of her services, I never have! All I did was gave her a spot to sleep by the fire! When she woke, we returned! That's it! I shouldn't have to tell you all this, you should trust me!"

Marie got up and grabbed the bottle, taking another gulp. "You are driving me into insanity, Erik. Just understand this, okay? She is a c_ourtesan_, not just a girl you can bring to your home for the night. I know you have feelings for Christine, and I also know she has feelings for you. But those feelings cannot be. They just cannot. Her work comes first, Erik. Her work always comes first. It always has, it always will. End of discussion. I do not need to see any compositions today. Goodbye."

Erik soon found himself outside of Marie's office. He was livid with her. How dare she speak to him like that!

Erik didn't care what that woman thought. He was going to see Christine until the day he died. She had told him she loved him, he'd heard her say it! He was not leaving her, not now, not ever.

Erik stormed out of Mademoiselle's. He would see Christine tonight, whether Marie liked it or not.

* * *

Christine locked the door to her bedchamber. She knew Marie would kick Erik out, then come to yell at her. She wanted no part of it.

Christine hadn't done anything wrong! She had just slept at his house! No one had to know that she slept in his bed… or that she did not have anything on… but none of that mattered! It was none of anyone's business!

Christine sat on her bed, putting her head in her hands. She thought about last night. The way Erik had touched her, held her, comforted her… she felt as though she'd spent the night in the arms of an angel. He'd never hurt her in any way like all the other men. Erik was different. He was more than a best friend to her. She _loved_ him.

'_Oh Erik… if only I could tell you everything…'_

She did not get ready for rehearsal. Instead, she tidied up the damage from last night's work. Tears burned in her eyes as she straightened out the room. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and let the tears fall. She looked at her day gown. It was beautiful, but she could not wear it. Not here.

Here, she was a courtesan. She slept with any man who had the money, letting them take her pride and dignity. She didn't deserve to wear such a pure gown here.

She quickly removed the day gown, shoving it back into her armoire. Christine suddenly felt weak and out of breath. She clutched at her chest and began to cough.

'_No, please, not now…'_

She was dressed in just her chemise and bloomers. She couldn't put anything else on, the coughing was too violent. Christine stumbled to the door, trying to quickly unlock it. As soon as the door opened, Christine fell to the ground, her lips stained red with blood.

* * *

Marie sat down on the main floor, waiting for Christine to come to rehearsal. "Where is that girl?!" she barked angrily. Christine was now over a half an hour late. All the other dancers were there, ready to rehearse, so why wasn't Christine?

Marie grew impatient. "Has anyone seen her, or is she still in her bedchamber?"

The dancers all looked at each other, none of them having an answer. No one had seen her since she went to the dormitories. Marie got up angrily, storming up the stairs.

"Christine Daaé!" she yelled as she ascended the stairs. When there was no answer, she made her way down the hall towards Christine's room. "Christine!"

Marie stopped dead in her tracks. The door to Christine's room was cracked open. Marie slowly made her way to the door and gently pushed it open. There, on the floor, was Christine.

"Oh, child, not now!" she gasped, quickly going to Christine's side. She got on her knees, lifting Christine's head gently onto her lap. She fanned the girl's face and wiped the sweat from her forehead. Christine's eyes slowly began to flutter.

"M-Marie…" she whispered, her voice taking on a raspy sound.

Marie quickly dabbed Christine's face once more. "I need a doctor! Someone fetch the doctor!" she called out the door.

Christine's eyes began to close again as Marie dabbed the blood from her lips. A few small coughs broke from her throat and she began to sweat again. She slipped back into unconsciousness, Erik's name slipping from her lips before she went dark.

* * *

The doctor arrived quickly in a matter of twenty minutes. Christine had been moved to her bed and now had a cool rag draped over her forehead.

"It's not getting any better, Marie," the doctor said, opening Christine's mouth and peering inside. "The medicine she's been taking is not preventing her dark fate; it's just been pushing it off a little. I'm afraid Miss Christine is now past a point of further treatment."

Marie sighed and gently touched Christine's arm. She hadn't awoken again yet and Marie began to worry. "She doesn't know what's going on… she just thinks she's a little sick. If I tell her what's really going on, it'll break her heart. How long do you think it'll be until…?"

The doctor sat back a bit, gathering his things up once again. "You want my honest answer? She won't make it to next year. She's got a few months at most. If she makes it to Christmas, consider yourself lucky."

With that, he tipped his hat to Marie and left. What was she going to do? She had to tell Christine somehow, but she didn't know how. Christine was so young, so naïve… she would never understand.

Marie looked down at Christine. She felt awful. This young girl, this beautiful girl, had no idea what was happening to her.

She remembered the first day they'd found out Christine was sick. She'd awoken with a slight fever one morning about a month ago. The doctor had told Marie it was just a cold and she would get past it. Then the coughing had started and Christine was not able to dance for a few weeks.

The horror didn't stop. After two weeks of coughing and fevers, Christine had suddenly dropped ten pounds. She was staring death in the face.

Marie remembered that day. It was a warm, autumn day and all the other girls had spent their day off near the ocean or in the city, but Christine had spent hers in bed. Her skin was as pale as a ghost and her eyes were dark. A little bit of blood stained the sides of her mouth as she coughed.

Christine had awoken in the middle of the night coughing and sweating terribly. It was becoming so hard for her to breathe as the day went on and the doctor said this day would certainly be her last. Marie had prepared for the worst. Scarlet had been there, too, holding Christine's hand as she began to slip.

But miraculously, Christine did not die. She started to get better. The color soon returned to her face and her eyes regained their light. Her fever had gone down and her sweating stopped. Scarlet had sworn that that was God's way of telling Christine he was not yet ready for another angel.

Even then, Christine hadn't realized she was dying. She had been steps from death's door and she just passed it off as being ill. Marie did not understand it at all, but kept quiet about it. After all, she didn't want to be the one to ruin Christine's recovery.

Now they were back to the start. Marie knew that one day, Christine would wake up like that again, but this time, she would not last through the day. Christmas was only two and a half months away, and the first snow that would be arriving soon would not help Christine's illness. In the cold, brutal weather, Christine would only grow more pained and gain more terrible symptoms.

Christine would have to know the truth soon. Marie knew not of how she would tell her, but she knew she had too. She'd been putting it off for too long now, and Christine had to prepare herself.

Marie sighed and gently touched the girl's face. "Oh Christine… what am I going to do with you?"


	10. Saying Goodbye

Christine awoke at seven o'clock that night. She did not wake up coughing or sweating, but she was afraid. Marie was at her side, wetting another rag for Christine's head.

Christine turned to Marie, then to the clock. "W-What happened, I-I have to dance!" she choked out, quickly sitting up. Marie's eyes widened and she grabbed Christine's arm.

"No, Christine, it's alright!" she said, trying to force her back to her bed. Christine resisted and quickly got out of bed, rushing to her armoire and ripping it open. Marie sat back in shock.

"I-I have to dance, Marie! I'm g-going to be late!" Christine exclaimed, beginning to wheeze again. She tore through the armoire, throwing shoes and outfits out of it. A distressed sound emerged from her lips as she stomped a foot. Christine ran to the door and yanked on the knob.

"Christine, what on Earth are you doing? You need to get back in bed!" Marie commanded, getting up from her chair and going towards the girl.

Christine's eyes began to fill with tears. "I… I need my shoe! I cannot dance without it, and I left it downstairs. I'm already late and everyone will be mad at me!" she cried, pulling open the door and stumbling into the hallway.

"Christine, stop! You cannot dance, Christine!"

The girl turned to Marie, gasping for breath. "I-I have to! Why w-won't you let me?"

Marie knew now was the time to tell her. If she didn't, Christine would continue with her motives and end up passed out on the floor again.

Marie took a deep breath and leaned against the doorway. "You're dying, Christine. You cannot dance because you are dying."

Christine stopped in her tracks. Fear and sorrow filled her once happy, joyous eyes. A small tear rolled down her cheek as she stood in horror. She took a moment to catch her breath before she spoke.

"How long?" she asked quietly.

Marie sighed and told her everything.

"…and the doctor said you'd be lucky to make it to Christmas."

Christine's heart broke. She began to cry, lifting a hand to her face to hide her grief. Marie went to her then, wrapping an arm around the young girl's shoulders. "Do not cry, Christine. We will do everything we can, you know that…"

Christine pressed her head into Marie's shoulder. "How am I going to tell him, Marie? He loves me, I-I know he does. If I tell him, it'll break his heart…"

Christine's mind filled with horror. She imagined Erik being angry, yelling at her and leaving her. But Erik would never do that to her, she knew it.

A new horror played in Christine's mind. She imagined Erik crying over her. She imagined the pain that would flood his golden eyes, the sorrow that would consume his beautiful voice as he'd cry. He would fall to his knees, crying into the hem of her skirt as he told her how sorry he was.

She imagined him there with her as she died. What would become of Erik when she died? Where would he go, what would he do? Would he disappear far, far away? Would he forget about Christine and start a new life?

Would he slowly die himself?

Christine sobbed at the thought of her causing Erik to die. She screamed out in pain and agony, not being able to rid thoughts of Erik dying from her mind.

Marie turned to face Christine. "You must tell him that you cannot see him anymore, Christine. If he knows you are dying, it will break him. He will cope better if you just end it. It is what you must do, Christine."

Her lip quivered. How could she just leave him and pretend that everything was fine?

But maybe Marie was right… if she told him that she was dying, he would never recover. If she said she had to leave him, he would probably understand better. It would still hurt him, but he would get over it easier and have a better chance of moving on.

Christine dabbed her eyes. It was what had to be done. Marie was wise and she had known Erik far longer than Christine had. Christine nodded, biting her lip as hard as she could so she could stop crying.

Marie gently rubbed Christine's back. "Come now, you must rest. We can talk more once you are back in bed."

She led Christine back into her room and had her lay down. Marie placed another wet cloth on Christine's forehead. "Just relax, Christine. Things will be alright, I promise you." She pulled a sheet over Christine, tucking it into the mattress.

Christine looked up at the ceiling. Her eyes were swollen from all the crying and her vision was blurry. Marie began to speak of how Christine would tell him and when she would tell him, but Christine couldn't concentrate on that.

All she could think about was Erik. How she would break his heart and lie to his face, hiding the fact that she was to die from him.

How could she lie to him? He'd never lied to her and she'd lied to him too much already! She'd lied about when she'd began as a courtesan, she'd lied about her intentions and feelings for him. Now was going to lie about the fact that she was dying.

Christine knew she'd been ill for a little over a month. She had thought she was finally getting a little better, even if she still coughed blood in the night. She told no one but Marie and Scarlet of her illness, and of course the doctor knew, too. Christine didn't want anyone to know she was ill, for she didn't want pity.

But now everyone would know. Everyone would know that she was ill, that she was going to die soon. They may never know what illness killed her, but they would know she'd been hiding it. Christine felt ashamed, but she didn't know why. Everyone got ill, right?

But no one got this ill and hid it.

Christine closed her eyes and let silent tears slip down her cheeks. She hated herself, and she would never forgive herself for lying to Erik.

'_Erik, if only I could tell you. If only you could know. If only things didn't have to end this way, then maybe I could have stayed with you. We could have gone away together, fallen in love the right way. Maybe when I'm gone, you will fall in love with a girl who knows how to love you in return like I do. I'm sorry, Erik. I wish I could tell you how sorry I am…'_

* * *

Christine stood in front of her mirror. She wore a black, tighter fitting dress and a black hat. Her hair was pinned up tightly under the hat. The hat was tilted downwards slightly to help mask her sad, swollen eyes. Her face was white, the only color being on her freshly painted lips. They were dark red, creating an extreme contrast against her pale face.

She stared at the reflection of the mourning girl. She was mourning her many losses. She had lost all of her pride, her innocence, her dignity. She'd lost herself and now she was about to lose Erik.

Christine dabbed her eyes and turned away from the mirror. She had to do what must be done.

She walked out the front door of a dark, dreary Mademoiselle's. A soft rain was falling onto the Paris streets and Christine wondered if the whole city was crying today.

She walked over two streets and stood before Erik's building. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

'_Dear God, if I must do what I am about to do, please make sure he doesn't hurt too much. I could never live with the fact that I'd broken his heart. Oh please, don't let him hurt. Make him understand that I mean well…'_

She climbed the stairs until she reached the top floor. It was a lot of walking and it took her a minute to catch her breath. Once she had regained her strength, she went to his door and knocked twice.

Just as he always did.

She heard someone moving around behind the door and quickly pulled herself together, running through everything she was to say in her head.

The door opened and Erik's masked face peered out. "Christine?"

A lump formed in Christine's throat. "I need to speak with you," she said sternly, not looking at his eyes.

Erik's expression changed to one of confusion, but he stepped aside and let her in. She did not look at him, just walked past him and gulped.

"Christine, is everything alright?" he asked, closing the door behind her. She turned to him and pursed her lips.

"Erik, we cannot see each other anymore. It's not good for business I think you should find someone who will be better for you. I'm sorry, but this is what must be done."

Erik's heart sunk. "Christine, what are you talking about? Why all of the sudden? Have I done something, Christine? You… I thought you loved me…"

Christine turned away from him. "Erik, I am a courtesan. I am paid to make men believe what they want to believe. I can't fall in love with anyone."

Erik shook his head in disbelief. "So this was all just an act, Christine? You were just fooling with me all along?"

Christine's eyes began to fill with tears. "Erik, all that I can say is that we must not see each other anymore. Just please understand that. I have to go."

She turned to leave, but Erik grabbed her arms. "Christine, no, don't leave. What's going on? Are you in danger? Is there another man? Please, Christine…" his voice was soft and his face was sad. Christine's heart broke and it was nearly impossible to hold her tears in.

"Erik, I do not love you. I wish not to see you anymore, what is so hard to understand about that?" she snapped.

The light in Erik's eyes disappeared. He released her and took a step away from her. "I thought you loved me, Christine. I thought we loved _each other_…"

She turned from him again. "I'm sorry, Erik," she said. She had nothing else to say to him. She'd damaged him enough already. Christine opened the door and left, fleeing down the stairs and letting the tears fall from her eyes.

She knew now that God showed no mercy on her, not that she deserved mercy anyways.

* * *

Erik stood in shock as she left. He did not run after her as he wanted to.

How could she say she didn't love him? Erik knew that all this time, that could not have been an act. She had had real feelings for him, he'd seen it in her eyes!

He shouldn't have let her go.

But why? Why would she do this to him if she didn't mean it? Surely this was not something she could have been forced to do. If someone like Marie had told her she had to, Christine still wouldn't have done it. This must have been all Christine's doing.

So she didn't really love him.

Erik's heart shattered into a million pieces. He ripped his mask from his face and threw it on the piano. He banged on the keys, sending dark chords into the cold air.

How could he believe that she loved him? He had let her trick him! He had been so blind! How could he ever think that someone would love a monster like him?

Erik was a fool. Only a fool would believe that she could love him. He was a demon, an angel from hell, and she was an angel from God. There was no way she could have ever loved him.

Yet he still yearned for her. He cried her name as his fists banged on the keys. Thoughts of her consumed his mind and made his heart ache even more.

'_Christine, how could you? I loved you!'_

He put his head in his hands and wept, for there was nothing else he could do.

'_I love you…'_


	11. The Truth Revealed

Christine burst into her bedchamber and slammed the door behind her. She ripped off her hat and all the pins from her hair, throwing them to the floor. She sobbed violently, throwing herself on her bed and screaming into her pillow.

Why did things have to happen like this? She was to die in a matter of months and the best friend she'd ever had was now gone. He probably hated her. She had lied to him, but he believed her. He thought she hated him.

Christine could never hate Erik. She loved him with all her heart. It killed her to see how sad his eyes were. She had killed the light they once held and made them dark. She had broken his heart and thrown him into hell.

Christine wished she could have just died right that moment.

She stayed in her bed all day and cried. She didn't let anyone visit her or even come into her room. She wanted to be alone, she deserved to be alone in her misery.

Maybe if Erik found out the truth someday, he would forgive her. She wished she could go to him now and beg his forgiveness, but she knew she couldn't.

Erik was gone. She couldn't get him back in her life if she wanted to.

Christine thought about the first time she'd met Erik. She had been so curious about him when she found that he did not lust for her. He was handsome, tall, and slim… a perfect man. He could have had any woman he'd wanted, but he came to her for friendship.

When she saw what lie beneath his mask, she had understood, and even though she had screamed at the sight of him, she was not afraid. She had been a bit startled, but she did not think of him as a monster. His face was unlike anything she'd ever seen, but she was not disgusted.

When he had let her remove his mask a second time, she knew he had truly trusted her. She had seen in his eyes that he loved her, and she had loved him in return.

When she'd spent the night at his house, she'd wanted badly for him to take her. She'd lain in his bed naked, waiting to see his reaction. He'd surprised her by not taking her. Instead, he'd held her gently to him and cradled her in her sleep.

That's when she knew he loved him.

But none of that mattered now. Christine had ruined everything and she hated herself.

Christine had another coughing fit that night. She couldn't catch her breath and began to wheeze. She coughed into her sheets, gasping for breath. A small spot of blood appeared on the sheet and startled Christine. She began to cry again and fell back onto her bed. She cried herself to sleep, wishing that she wouldn't wake up in the morning.

* * *

October came and went. Christine had been growing more and more ill, barely able to leave her bed anymore. Every time she would get up, she would have a coughing fit. The farthest she could get without nearly passing out was down the stairs. She was getting thinner and thinner, too. Her skin had grown pale and her eyes lifeless.

Marie knew Christine didn't have much longer.

It was now the first week of November and no one had heard a thing from Erik. He hadn't come to Marie with compositions and he hadn't tried to contact Christine. Of course, this broke Christine's heart. She never spoke of Erik, but Marie could tell that Christine was extremely depressed over him.

The only person to contact Christine in the last month had been her old friend, the Vicomte. He had written her an apology letter, asking for her to forgive him after their argument. He stated that he would not be returning to Mademoiselle's, but he left his address in case she needed him.

Christine had simply written back that she accepted his apology. She said that she was glad they could move on and thanked him for the offer of help. That was all. She was too sick to continue.

Christine was waiting to die. Everyone at Mademoiselle's knew it. She wanted to leave this world. For she had made too many wrongs to right. Every time she had a coughing fit or couldn't breathe, she'd wished she would just go then, but she never did.

One day, Christine had turned to Marie while Marie was preparing her medicine.

"Marie… I don't want you to take care of me anymore," she said.

Marie was taken aback by the statement. "Well, I could get someone else to come and—"

Christine stopped her. "No. I don't want anyone taking care of me anymore. I just want to get this over with."

Marie frowned. What could she say? She couldn't deny Christine's wishes anymore. If this is truly what she wanted, then she had to let her have it.

"If you are sure… I will still check on you every morning to make sure you are still with us. But other than that, I will make sure you are left alone."

With that, Marie got up and left.

Christine slowly sat up, careful not to move too fast. She climbed out of bed and shuffled over to the window. She wanted to see the outside world one last time. She sat in a chair and opened the curtains and window, peering outside.

The cold winter air blew onto her face. The clouds were beginning to roll in, blocking the light of the moon. Christine looked off to her left.

She could see the top floor of Erik's building in the distance.

She wanted to see him again.

She slowly stood up and leaned out the window. She could see that the large windows in Erik's flat were all covered. She worried about him.

Christine made the sudden decision to see him one last time. Even if trying to get to him killed her, she would die happily knowing that she tried.

She went to her armoire, pulling open the door and revealing all of her old costumes. She slipped into a long, white nightgown and grabbed her cloak. She breathed slowly as she put them on. She stumbled to the door, slowly pulling it open. It was very late and she knew all the other dancers were asleep.

Christine walked down the hall and slowly made her way down the stairs. She knew it would be very tough for her to make it past the stairs, for she hadn't been able to do it in weeks.

But Christine persisted. She made it to the front door before she begun to have a hard time breathing. She took it easy, taking a moment to catch her breath. She emerged from Mademoiselle's and slowly made her way out onto the street.

The bitter winter air stung her skin, but Christine tried to ignore it. She only had one thing on her mind, and that was Erik.

When she was halfway to Erik's flat, she suddenly could not breathe. Christine collapsed to the ground, grabbing at her chest.

'_Please, not now. Just let me make it to him…'_

She laid her head on the ground for a moment, trying to catch her breath.

The first snow of that winter slowly began to fall around her.

* * *

Erik sat hunched over the piano. He'd been sitting like this for days. He wasn't playing anything or even looking at music. All he could do was think of her.

It'd been a month since she'd came to him, yet his heart still ached like it had happened yesterday.

He missed her. She had been the only thing that made him happy, and now she was gone. He knew he could have bought a ticket to see her at Mademoiselle's any time, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. She had made it very clear that she did not want to see him anymore, so he had obeyed her wishes.

He missed every inch of Christine. He missed her luscious curls, her big, brown eyes, her silky skin, and her angelic voice. But most of all, he missed the joy she'd brought him. Without her, Erik was empty. Life was pointless without Christine.

Erik's thoughts were interrupted by two light knocks on the door. He lifted his head and looked at the clock.

12:56.

Why was someone knocking at his door this late at night? And why his door, on the top floor of the building?

Erik reached over and grabbed his mask, slipping it back on. He slowly got up from the bench, stretching his aching legs and back. He made his way to the door and opened it, shocked at the sight before him.

A woman stood with her back to him. A cloak covered her hair and face, masking her identity. She was leaned over the railing, wheezing loudly.

He went to the woman, gently laying a hand on her back. "Madame, are you alright?" he asked. What was this woman doing at his door? Why had she come up all this way?

The woman slowly turned her face to him.

_Christine._

He face was extremely pale and her eyes were dark. Her lips were colorless, as were her once rosy cheeks. She was thinner and her cheeks seemed almost sunken in. She began to fall over and Erik immediately caught her. She began to cough, putting her hand over her mouth and squeezing her eyes shut. Erik quickly brought her inside, closing the door behind him.

He set her on the divan and lit the wood in the fireplace. She shivered and continued to cough. Erik looked over at her. She was wearing only a thin nightgown under her cloak. She had walked through the snowy night like that? She was mad!

He went to her, gently touching her cheek. "I will get you a blanket, just stay put," he said. He looked down at her hand and gasped quietly when he saw the blood on her fingers. He ran to his bedchambers and grabbed a blanket and handkerchief, returning to her and putting the handkerchief over her mouth. She coughed and coughed and coughed into it, wheezing between coughs.

He picked her up and wrapped the blanket around her. Erik sat on the divan and cradled her in his arms. Why had she come to him? She was the one who said she couldn't see him anymore. And why was there blood on her fingers?

He stroked her hair and let her cough. She coughed violently for a few minutes, which scared Erik to death. When the coughing faded, the slight wheezing began.

It was endless. Erik sat with her for nearly a half an hour before she caught her breath. He finally heard her relax and looked down at her. Her eyes were barely open and blood stained her lips.

He took the handkerchief and dabbed her mouth. "Christine, why have you come here like this?" he implored.

She slowly lifted her head up to look at him. Her eyes opened a little wider as she gazed into his. She spoke softly, her lips barely parting as she spoke.

"I am dying, Erik. I wanted to see you before I go."

His heart stopped. She was _dying._

Erik took another look at her. As he examined her symptoms, he knew exactly what illness was killing her.

"I will fix you, Christine. I won't let you die, you're too young to die," he stammered.

Christine shook her head. "No, Erik, it's no use. They've tried every medicine they could. I'm too sick. I just want you to be beside me, that's all I need."

Erik's eyes filled with tears. He had to help her, he couldn't let her die! There was so many things he'd wanted to do with her, so many places he'd wanted to take her, so many things he'd wanted to say to her!

"Christine, promise me that you won't let yourself slip away tonight. I will take care of you and I will heal you as much as I can. Please, don't leave me like this…" he quaked.

Christine looked down, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'll try my best, Erik," she whispered.

Erik could tell that she was tired. He stood, still cradling her in his arms, and brought her to his bedchamber. She was asleep by the time he laid her in his bed. He removed her cloak and hung it on the rack.

He looked across the room at Christine. She looked so innocent, yet so pained. When had she fallen ill? Could she still be suffering from the illness she had so many months ago, before he'd first met her?

Erik went to her and climbed into bed beside her. He wrapped his arms around her, bringing her to his chest. He wanted to warm her chilled body, but mostly, he knew this may be the last time he held her.

Erik closed his eyes and kissed Christine's head. He did not sleep that night, for he wanted to remember every last moment with his angel.


	12. A Night with Monsieur Garnier

Christine awoke at eight o'clock the next morning. Erik had been so relieved to see her eyes open again. Christine had had a bit of a rough night, coughing throughout her sleep. She'd also had a slight case of night sweats, but Erik knew how to cure them.

"Good morning, Christine," he whispered when she awoke. "I'm going to go run you a nice bath, does that sound alright?"

Christine nodded sleepily, closing her eyes once more.

Erik got up from the bed and entered the bathroom. He began to fill the tub with warm water, then filled it with soap.

When he returned to his bedroom, he found Christine sitting up in bed and holding a small tube in her hand. "Christine, what is that?" he asked, going to her.

She showed him the tube. It was filled with a clear liquid. "Medicine," she said softly. "I have to take it every morning. I only have two more tubes left." She poured the medicine into her mouth and swallowed.

Erik squinted his eyes and took the now empty tube from her. "And this little amount is supposed to get you through the day?"

Christine nodded slowly. "It's what the doctor gave me."

Erik scuffed. "Some doctor. Don't worry, Christine, I will get you some more medicine. But right now, let's get you into the bath."

He picked Christine up and carried her into the bathroom. He stood her up on the tile floor. "Would you like help getting undressed, Christine?" he asked gently.

She coughed a little and nodded. Erik pulled her nightgown of her head and folded it up nicely. He then removed her chemise and bloomers, folding them as well.

Christine stood naked before him. He'd seen her nearly naked before and he'd felt her naked body before, but he'd never seen her like this. He took a moment to look at her.

She was beautiful. Every last inch of her was stunning. The marks that once lay all over her body had faded away and now all that was left was her clear, soft skin. He painted every curve and dip of her body in his mind. Christine had perfectly curvy hips and a small waist, paired atop with perfectly round shoulders and delicate, round breasts.

"Erik?" she said, raising her eyes to meet his.

Erik snapped back to reality, feeling embarrassed that she had seen him staring at her. "Yes, Christine?"

She cleared her throat a little. "Will you join me?"

Erik's heart sped up. Join her? She wanted him to bathe with her?

"Oh… Christine… I don't know if that's the best idea…" he said, looking down and scratching his head.

She sighed and looked down at the floor. Erik pursed his lips a little. How could he deny her such a simple wish? After all, they didn't know how much time she had…

Erik nodded, going to her and gently stroking her cheek. "As you wish, Christine. Give me one moment." He kissed the top of her head and helped her into the tub. He turned his back to her and began to remove his clothing. Erik suddenly felt extremely nervous. No one, especially not a beautiful woman like Christine, had seen him unclothed. As he stood before her in just his breeches, he saw her eyes wander up to his.

"Mask too?" she asked weakly.

Erik sighed and nodded, removing his mask before his breeches. He gulped and removed the breeches, leaving him completely naked.

He looked down at Christine, who was taking in the sight of him for the first time. She looked him up and down, then returned her eyes up to his and smiled. "You are beautiful, Erik," she whispered, her voice soft and delicate like a feather.

Erik returned the smile and slid into the warm water. As soon as his back was rested against the back of the bathtub, Christine slide into his lap, snuggling up to him and resting her head on his shoulder. Erik began to stroke her hair, calming Christine.

"Christine… may I ask you a question?"

Christine nodded slightly, wrapping her arms around Erik's torso.

He took in a deep breath. "Christine… why did you tell me that you didn't love me and needed to leave me that day?"

Christine stayed silent for a moment. She sighed and slowly sat up, looking into Erik's eyes.

"The night before I came and saw you, I found out that I was dying. I had collapsed on the floor and if Marie wouldn't have found me, I would have died that night. I didn't want you to know I was going to die, for I knew it would break your heart. I made the foolish decision of deciding to tell you I couldn't be with you anymore and that I didn't love you. But Erik, it was the most foolish thing I've ever done in my life. I lied to you. I never wanted to leave you, because I did love you. I still love you, and now that I know I don't have much time with you, I hate myself…"

Erik gently touched her cheek. "Do not hate yourself, Christine. I know you must have been under a lot of pressure. I shouldn't have let you go that night. I was just so shocked by what you'd said, I couldn't go after you. But… I loved you, too, Christine… and I do still love you as you love me."

Christine leaned forward and planted a kiss on Erik's nose. "I knew you did," she whispered, giving him a small smile.

Erik could not resist the urge to kiss her. He claimed her lips, the warmth of her lips warming his heart. Christine returned the kiss, gently setting her hands on either side of his face.

They kissed for a while before Christine pulled away to catch her breath. She wheezed a little, but Erik quickly calmed her with his touch. He let his hand rest upon her jaw. "Breathe, angel. Everything will be alright if you just breathe."

Christine closed her eyes and did as she was told. She took in a few slow, deep breaths. Soon her breathing had returned to normal and she kissed Erik's cheek. "Erik… before I die, I want you to make love to me as you promised you once would," she whispered, looking into his eyes.

Erik's heart sped up again. It would be so easy to take her now, but he couldn't. Not when she was so fragile and ill. On the other hand, he didn't know how much more time he had with her.

Erik kissed her ear. "I promised you I would, and I intend to keep my promise. Just not here, Christine. I want to make sure you are feeling well first," he whispered.

Christine nodded and kissed his lips briefly. She then laid her head back on his shoulder, closing her eyes.

Erik grabbed the soap and gently began to bathe Christine. He massaged her soft skin with the soap, kissing her head as he did so. When he finished bathing her, he quickly bathed himself and began draining the water.

"Let's go get you dressed," he whispered, picking her up and carefully getting out of the bath. Erik wrapped a towel around her, then one around himself. He lifted her back into his arms, carrying her back into his bedchamber. He set her on his bed and went to the armoire.

"You know, after the first night you spent with me, I decided that you needed more day dresses. So, hopefully you like the few that I picked out…"

He held out a simple, white gown. "I was thinking this one for today. I purchased two others, but this one will be most comfortable for you today."

Christine gasped and smiled. "Oh, Erik, you bought that for _me_?"

Erik chuckled. "Well, who else would I buy it for?"

He helped Christine up again, removing her towel. He helped her into her chemise and bloomers, then slipped the gown over her head. He took a step back and looked at her.

"You look stunning," he smirked. And it was true. She was beautiful. Her curly chocolate hair cascaded down her back and her eyes seemed to regain a little of their light. Her skin was still incredibly pale against the white fabric, but it gave her an angelic look.

Erik went to her and kissed her head. "Now you must rest for a little while. I don't want that cough to come back. I will go make some tea."

Christine nodded and climbed onto Erik's bed, resting her head on his soft pillows. Erik disappeared into the hallway, making his way to the kitchen.

* * *

Erik returned about twenty minutes later with two cups of tea and some bread on a tray. He sat beside Christine on the bed, handing her a cup. "Drink up, it'll help your cough," he said, setting down the tray. Christine obeyed, sipping the tea. Erik watched her with a close eye.

"Does anyone know that you're here, Christine?" he asked, sipping his own tea.

Christine slowly shook her head. "I should tell Marie… she'll be worried…"

Erik held up a hand. "Say no more, I will write her and explain everything. You just relax. I will go write to her now. If you would like, you may take a nap. I will return shortly." He leaned over and kissed her cheek and Christine smiled at him.

"Erik… I love you," she said softly.

Erik's heart fluttered and he smiled at her. "I love you too, Christine," he rejoiced, kissing her hand. He stood and went to the door, smiling at her once more before leaving for the parlor.

* * *

_Dearest Marie,_

_I am writing to you in regards of Christine. I would like to inform you that she came to my doorstep late last night and I found her to be very ill. I have taken her in and am taking very good care of her. She wanted to make sure you knew that she was alright, so I promised her I would send this letter to you immediately._

_I would like to make sure you know that I have no intentions of harming Christine. If anything, I wish to extend her short life a little longer. If you have any questions or concerns for either of us, do not hesitate to write us back. I know Christine would be happy to hear back from you._

_Your Loyal Composer,_

_Erik_

Erik reread the letter quickly, double checking that he included all the information he was to give. He sealed the letter and left the flat, going down to the lobby and handing it to the guard. "I need this delivered as soon as possible," he said, handing off the letter and disappearing back upstairs.

No one in Erik's building ever really saw him. When he did leave, it was later at night when everyone was either asleep or out on the town. He had rarely spoken to the guard and felt awkward when socializing with him. Erik was glad to flee back to the protection of his own home.

When he arrived back in his flat, he was alarmed by the sound of Christine's coughs. He rushed to his bedchamber , bursting through the door and quickly looking to Christine. Her eyes widened and she jumped a little, frightened by Erik's sudden entrance.

"Oh, Erik, I was just clearing my throat," she said, catching her breath. "Do not worry, I am doing well."

Erik let out a sigh of relief and sat beside her. "I'm sorry I frightened you. I just heard you coughing and got worried…"

Christine silenced him with a kiss on the cheek. "Do not apologize, Erik. I know you meant no harm."

She opened her arms, inviting him to come and cuddle with her. Erik lay beside her and let her wrap her arms around him. She kissed the side of his head and took his hand in hers.

Erik looked at Christine, gazing into her chocolate eyes.

She smiled at him and set her head on his shoulder.

In a matter of moments, she was asleep.


	13. Erik's Lesson

The light from the setting sun illuminated Erik's bedchamber. Erik was in the kitchen making pouring more tea when Christine awoke. She sat up and gazed out the window at the sunset. From Erik's floor, you could practically see all of Paris! She yearned to go to the window, but didn't want to cause another coughing fit.

So Christine sat in Erik's bed and stared.

Erik returned with another cup of tea for Christine and found her awake. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, setting her teacup down on the bedside table. Christine nodded, not taking her eyes off the window.

Erik gazed over to the window and saw the sunset. He gently took Christine's hand and guided her out of bed. "Come, I will help you," he said, bringing her slowly to the window. Christine's face brightened when she saw the view. Oh, how she wished she could go out into the town again.

Brilliant white snow covered the land and the streets and people in fancy coats and cloaks strolled merrily in the winter weather. Everyone was probably beginning to head home, for once the sun set it would be very cold again. She watched as carriages rode by and a few children played, throwing snow at each other.

Erik leaned his head down and gently kissed Christine's neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she tilted her head back onto his shoulder. He caressed her skin with his soft lips, his nose filling with the familiar sent of roses.

Christine closed her eyes slowly, enjoying the feeling of Erik's soft lips against her skin. The last light of the sun shone over the tops of the buildings as the sun went back to sleep. Christine turned to Erik, gazing up at his twinkling golden eyes.

She kissed him then as the sunlight faded away. Erik placed his hands on her delicate cheeks, accepting and returning the kiss.

Christine's lips were like two delicate rose petals, soft and pink. She tasted like sweet flowers, too! Erik felt lost in a world of her love and he never wanted to find his way out.

Christine was an angel. Erik remembered when he had first seen her on that stage. She was gorgeous, and talented too! He had taken a slight interest in her at that time, wanting to know more about her. He had watched her every move on that stage with a close eye, trying to learn the dips and curves of her body from afar. He never thought he'd get to learn them up close.

When Marie had told Erik that Christine was waiting for him, his heart had nearly burst from his chest. He'd never been so nervous in his life! For the first time, a beautiful girl was waiting for _him_! He knew that it was her job and that once she was done with him, she'd move on, but he didn't care. The fact that she was expecting him made him float.

Only then, when Erik was in front of her in her room did he realize that he did not want to bed her. He wanted to keep this girl, she was perfect! He knew if he had bedded her that night, he would never have the chance to be her friend, or maybe more eventually. He never bedded her, and now he knew it was one of the best decisions he'd ever made.

Erik's thoughts were interrupted by a small, angelic voice. _Christine._

He looked down at her, just catching what she was saying.

"Erik… I want it now," she said softly, her fragile body pressing closer to his.

She saw how his left eyebrow raised slightly, showing that he wasn't exactly getting her hint. Christine rose up on her tip toes and pressed her lips to his ear.

"In this moment, I feel no pain. I want you to teach me to make love."

Erik's heart skipped a beat, then doubled its pace. He stared down at the beautiful creature in his arms and he knew he could not deny her. Claiming her lips in his, Erik began his lesson.

* * *

Erik took his time with Christine, not wanting to rush her or hurt her in any way. He knew that this was potentially very dangerous to her, and Christine was fully aware also. She still persisted, deepening their kiss and laying her hands on his neck.

Erik's hands explored the dips and curves of her body as he carefully began to remove her new dress. He pulled the white fabric over her head and let it fall to the floor.

Christine's dainty fingers began to unbutton Erik's waistcoat and dress shirt. She not only wanted him, she _needed_ him. She loved him and she wanted to show him just how she felt.

Soon, Erik's chest was fully exposed to Christine. She studied his chest quickly with her hands before her fingers traveled down to his waistline. In the blink of an eye, Christine had unbuttoned his trousers. Erik stopped her from removing them, grabbing her hands and placing them on his chest.

Erik grabbed at her thin chemise, rolling it up over her head and leaving it with her dress on the floor. He soon felt Christine's leg lifting and wrapping around his hip, sending a small wave of arousal through his spine. Nevertheless, he got her message and picked her up, carrying her to his bed and laying her on her back.

Erik took a moment to remove her bloomers and gaze at her exposed body. God, she was breathtaking!

Christine Daaé was the most beautiful creature Erik had ever laid eyes on. Her chocolate brown curls cascaded around her like a halo, proving to him that she was truly an angel. His eyes wandered down, watching her chest rise and fall as she caught her breath. His eyes stopped wandering when he saw her two, perfect pink breasts before him. He cupped one in his hand, teasing her nipple gently. A small moan escaped her lips and her eyes fluttered shut as she gave into the pleasure.

Erik brought his mouth to her other breast, gently sucking and caressing the delicate skin with his tongue. Christine purred in delight, running her hand through his hair. He teased the sensitive bud with his teeth, sending a shudder through Christine's body.

Erik soon felt her fingers on the right side on his jaw, pulling on his mask. She removed it gently, setting it beside them on the bedside table. Erik's head rose up, his eyes locking on hers. There was a small glimmer of hope in her eyes as she reached her hand out, caressing the bumps and crevices of his deformity. He closed his eyes briefly as he brought his lips back to hers.

Christine took his breath away with her urgency. She immediately deepened the kiss, grabbing the back of his neck and bringing him flush against her. The fire within her roared with passion and Erik knew how badly she needed him. She clung to him fiercely, wrapping her legs around his hips.

Erik broke from her lips and began kissing her jaw, eventually leaving a damp trail down from her jaw to her clavicle. His kisses traveled even lower, passing the valley between her breasts and landing on her stomach. He dipped his tongue into her navel, causing Christine to release another pleasured sound from her lips. His hands ran along the curve of her hips, stroking her thighs gently. He gently pressed them down onto the mattress.

Christine let out a gasp when she felt his warm breath between her legs. He dipped his head down and pressed his mouth to her heat, sending a wave of pleasure through Christine's body. She'd only received pleasure like this once or twice from her customers, but they never gave her the arousal Erik's tongue was giving her.

Christine heard him shifting a little and her eyes fluttered open slightly. She saw him kicking off his trousers and removing his breeches with a sense of urgency. She took this time to catch her breath, wanting to make it all the way through without having any problems.

She rose her eyes up once more, once again taking in the sight of him. He was tall and lean, his arms and chest muscles flexing as he stood. Her eyes wandered down his chest, following the light trail of dark hair that began at his navel. Her cheeks turned a light pink color as she gazed between his legs at his straining arousal.

Erik climbed back on top of her, the air thickening around them as he pressed his lips to her ear. "Staring is a bit rude, you know," he teased, a sly smile spreading upon his lips.

Christine's blush deepened to a crimson color. Erik saw this and kissed both of her soft cheeks. "Do not fret, I am guilty of staring as well," he whispered, capturing her lips. He felt Christine's soft tongue teasing his bottom lip and broke his mouth from hers as he pulled her legs up to his hips once more. Christine laid both of her hands on his face, smashing their lips together again.

Erik heard a slight hitch in her breathing as he slowly slide into her. He smirked in delight as her body sent out an involuntary shudder and a moan drifted from her throat. He caught the moan with his lips, kissing her softly. Erik made sure that he was extremely gentle with her, not wanting to harm her or cause her any pain, but Christine wanted more.

She slowly began to writhe her hips against him, parting their lips and moaning out his name. Her fingers plummeted into his jet black hair as she pleaded for more. Erik did not deny her and changed his pace. His eyes locked on hers, watching the pleasure swirl in her chocolate irises.

They both let long moans escape their throats as he plummeted into her. Christine's muscles stiffened and her body shuddered again, signaling her impending climax. Erik was getting close to the edge as well and a groan rumbled from his chest.

Soon, Christine's eyes flew open and she found release, letting out a loud cry. Erik's heart sped up at the sensation she had given him, and soon he joined her in release. Erik released a breath he hadn't known he was holding in and gazed down at Christine. Her head was tilted back, her eyes halfway open.

"Erik… I love you," she said, her words breathy and light.

Erik pressed a small kiss to the corner of her mouth. "I love you more than you will ever know, Christine," he whispered as he embraced her. Erik turned onto his back, cradling her in his arms and placing her atop his chest. She immediately wrapped her thin arms around him, nestling her head in the crook of his neck.

Erik pulled the sheet and blanket over them, engulfing Christine in the warmth of both the fabrics and his body. He couldn't believe that he had just made love to this beautiful woman, his Christine! She had wanted him, she had _needed_ him! This breathtaking woman, this angel from God above had made love to him!

He peered down at her to find her sleeping silently on his chest. He watched as her back rose with each tiny inhalation, then sunk again as she exhaled.

The fact that Christine loved him was almost too much to handle.

A sliver of moonlight shone in through the split between the curtains. Erik gazed back down at his sleeping beauty, gently stroking her hair. The realization that she was going to be gone soon hit him then, shattering his heart. Erik began to imagine a life without her beside him.

He knew he couldn't let her die. She was too young, too precious to this cruel world! Christine was meant to outlive him, for she was much younger! She couldn't die, he wouldn't let her!

But Erik knew that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep her alive forever. He'd seen how she'd have coughing fits, leaving blood on the handkerchief. He'd seen how weak and thin she'd become in only a matter of weeks. He'd seen how the disease was killing her quickly. Erik knew he didn't have much time left with her and soon she would be gone.

Not knowing whether or not Christine would wake in the morning was the worst feeling in the world.


	14. Promises

Erik didn't sleep at all that night. He stayed up all night, his eyes locked on his sleeping lover. Images kept flowing into his mind of Christine waking up and being extremely sick, or worse, not waking up at all. The thoughts kept Erik's eyes wide open in the dark, cold night.

The first light of day broke through the split in the curtains, relieving Erik a bit that she had at least made it through the night. He gently stroked her bare back and images of last night and their coupling flooded into his mind.

He remembered how happy Christine had looked when his eyes met hers. Her eyes had held so much hope, so much love. Erik knew that she wanted to live and be with him, but she knew that wasn't going to happen. His heart broke thinking of how she must feel.

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt her stirring in her sleep. She whimpered, her breath catching in her throat. She began to wheeze, her eyes flying open as she coughed. Erik panicked and sat up, scooping her into his arms and cradling her like a child.

"Christine, it's alright, stay with me, just breathe!" he said, rubbing her back. She coughed again, covering her mouth with her small hand as the coughs began more violent. Erik's heart raced as he tried to help her, but he didn't know what to do. He pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arms tightly around her and slamming his eyes shut. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes as he feared he was losing her.

Suddenly he felt a tug on his arm. Erik opened his eyes and looked down at her. Christine's coughing ceased, but she was still wheezing badly. Most of her bottom lip was stained with blood and Erik took her hand, turning it over and seeing all the blood.

His eyes filled with worry as he gazed into hers. "Christine… are you going to be alright?" he asked softly, his voice breaking in the middle of the sentence. Her chest heaved, but she nodded quickly, reassuring him. Erik let out a sigh of relief and embraced her, wrapping his big, strong arms around her frail body.

Christine slowly rose her shaky arm and pointed towards the bathroom door. Erik looked over to where she was pointing, then back down to her. "Would you like a bath, Christine?" he asked gently, kissing her head. She nodded and curled up to him, her breathing still heavy.

Erik gently laid her down on the bed, careful to not cause any more coughing. He got up and went to the bathroom, drawing a bath. He felt the water, making sure that it wasn't too hot or too cold. After he filled the bath, he returned to Christine. Her eyes were only halfway open as she struggled for breath. She looked miserable.

Erik picked her up into his arms, carrying her into the bathroom. He gently set her in the bath, making sure not to let her land too hard or go underwater. He went to the sink and grabbed a rag, going back to the bath and kneeling beside it. Christine looked over at him and he noticed that there was now a little splotch of blood beneath her lip. He sighed and wiped the blood away with the rag, erasing all evidence that death had nearly claimed her. He took her hand then, too, washing away the blood.

He returned the rag to the sink and turned back to Christine. Her eyes pleaded with him to join her, to hold her close and comfort her. His heart ached as he climbed into the bath with her.

Why did bad things like this have to happen to such a good person like Christine? She didn't deserve all of this pain, all of this suffering. As he brought her to his arms, Erik estimated how much time he might have left with her.

His heart lurched when he came face to face with the truth: If something was not done to save her soon, she would be dead in days.

Erik brought his lips down to her ear, kissing it lightly. "Do not worry, Christine. I will do everything in my power to heal you, I promise."

Christine looked up at him and nodded. To his surprise, she gently pressed her lips to his, giving him a small kiss before returning her head to his shoulder. Erik let a small smile form on his lips as he wrapped his arms around her.

* * *

Erik poured the tea into two cups. After their bath, he had dressed himself and Christine in light clothing for the day. Christine had told him she only wanted to wear her nightgown with no chemise, bloomers, or corset. Erik had been slightly confused by her request, but obeyed nevertheless. He'd dressed himself in simple black trousers and a white dress shirt, topped off with his mask.

Christine now lay in the parlor on the chaise. Erik had covered her with a blanket and light the wood in the fireplace, warming the room quite a bit. He returned to the parlor with their tea, sitting on the edge of the chaise and handing her a cup. She took it and sipped it quickly, her dry throat aching for the warm liquid.

Erik gently stroked her hair as she sipped the tea. There were so many things Erik wished he could have done with Christine. He wished for simple, small things, like being able to go for strolls or go dancing together after dinner. He wished for bigger things, too, like being able to marry her. But sadly, Erik knew none of the things he wanted would ever be able to happen.

He gazed at Christine, watching her as she watched the steam rise from her tea. Her eyes looked empty and sad. "Are you in pain, Christine?" Erik asked, touching her arm lightly. Her eyes drifted up to his and she did not answer. She didn't want to tell him the truth, for it would hurt him.

Christine hurt every moment of the day. Not just hurt from illness, but hurt from heartbreak. She felt awful for what she was putting Erik through. He had become a caretaker to her and he promised he would heal her, but Christine knew he couldn't. No one could heal her. Eventually, she would be gone and no one could bring her back to him.

Christine's heart hurt. Every time she looked at Erik, she imagined the pain and grieving he would go through when she was gone. She imagined him weeping for her, falling to his knees and crying. She imagined him being lonely, sulking around all day, yearning for her. She imagined him taking his own life…

Her eyes shot back up to his. "Promise me that when I'm gone, you will not end your own life as well," she said, her voice stern.

Erik's eyes widened a little before he looked away from her. He'd be lying if he said he'd never thought about ending his own life when she died. He had thought how easy it would be to escape the grief he would feel, and maybe he could rejoin her again in a different life.

He looked back to her and her expression had softened. "Please, Erik…" she whispered, her eyes filling with sadness. Erik's heart broke at the sight of her sadness and he nodded. "I promise," he said quietly, taking her hand and kissing it.

Christine felt relief consume her. The last thing she would have wanted to happen was for both of them to be gone from this earth so soon. Erik's promise had made it easier for her to accept that her death was coming near.

Both of their thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Erik slowly rose and disappeared around the corner, going to answer the door.

He unlocked the latch, pulling the door open. A young boy, maybe fifteen, stood before him. "I have a message for Miss Christine Daaé and Monsieur Erik Garnier," he boy said, holding out a cream envelope. Erik took the envelope and pulled a coin from his pocket, pressing it to the boy's hand. The boy thanked him and hurried back down the stairs as Erik shut the door. He returned to the parlor and began to open the envelope.

"Who is that from?" Christine asked quietly, looking over at the envelope. Erik pulled out a letter, holding it out so they both could read.

_Dearest Erik,_

_I am very relieved to hear of Christine's whereabouts. I trust that you are taking care of her, for I know you are the only one she would wish to treat her. I wish to explain a few things about dear Christine's condition so you may help treat her better._

_Christine was diagnosed with a very late stage of tuberculosis in the summer. She has lived much longer than anyone expected her to. It is a miracle. Her lungs are giving up on her, yet she still pushes on. I am so proud of her fight; I know she must be very brave to do this. But I must warn you, Erik, this fight will not last much longer. Christine is very ill, as you probably know by now. She has had every treatment available and nothing is working anymore. The doctor has given her a little over a month to live, but in my opinion, she will be with God by the end of the week._

_I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I wanted to make sure you knew. I send you my well wishes and love. If you need anything, anything at all, I will be there in a heartbeat._

_Yours Truly,_

_Marie Cloutier_

Once Erik had finished reading the letter, he turned to Christine, finding her with tears on her cheeks. She threw her head into her hands and sobbed, her cries echoing in the once quiet room. Her heart shattered as she realized how much time she really had left. Soon she would leave everything behind and be gone forever.

Her cries could be heard around the world.

Erik pulled her into his arms, dropping the note to the ground and wrapping his arms tightly around her. Christine's head went immediately to his shoulder as she cried. Erik began to rock her back and forth, kissing her head over and over in an attempt to calm her.

Erik was sick of all the pain she was going through. She didn't deserve to hurt like this, to cry like this. She deserved to live the rest of her life happily, and he would do everything in his power to make sure that she did.

He grabbed her arms and pulled her up, her face now inches from his. "Christine, look at me," he said sternly, staring at her eyes.

She slowly opened her tear-filled eyes, looking back into his.

"Promise me that you will not think about dying. Promise me that you will be happy, and I promise you that I will make you happy. Please, Christine, promise me!" he begged, releasing her arms and bringing his hands to her face.

She sniffled and let a few more tears fall before she nodded. "I-I promise," she whispered.

Erik sighed and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Do not cry, mon ange. We will get through this."

He kissed her gently, using the kiss to reassure her of his promises. He felt her body go limp as she returned the kiss briefly, then fell into his arms once again.

"Erik… I don't want to be forced to lay down all the time. If I am to live happily, I want to pretend I am not ill as much as I can. I want to actually _live_, Erik. I want to dance and sing and go places and see things again…"

Erik took her hands in his, kissing her forehead softly. "Christine, I will take you wherever you wish to go. We can do whatever you want to do and I will pay for anything and everything. Just say the word and it is yours."

Christine's eyes rose up, locking onto Erik's. She took in a deep breath, the worked up the courage to speak.

"I want to become your wife."


	15. Mr and Mrs Erik Garnier

Erik could not believe his ears. She wanted to _marry him_?

He looked into her eyes, speechless. Christine's eyes swirled with hope and love, love for him. Erik had dreamed of marrying Christine, even though they may only be married a few hours before she passed.

Erik made his decision.

He got up quickly, releasing Christine's hands. "Give me one moment," he said, disappearing into the hall. He rushed to his bedchamber, pulling open his armoire. On the bottom of the mighty chest was a jewelry box. It had once belonged to his mother and was filled with different jewels, trinkets, and beads.

He found what he was looking for and quickly shut the box, shoving it to the back corner of the armoire. He rushed back to Christine, excited to see if it would fit her.

Erik sat back down, taking Christine's hand once more. "Christine… this was my mother's ring. She gave it to me just before she died a long time ago. She told me that one day, when I found a woman worthy of my love, I was to give this to her. And… well… Christine… would you do me the honor of wearing my ring?"

Christine gazed at the ring, then up at his eyes. A smile spread upon her face as she nodded, planting a small kiss on his lips. He gladly returned the kiss, breaking it off briefly to slide the ring on her finger.

She was his! Christine was going to be his wife! This woman wanted him as a husband, and she wanted to wear his ring!

He cheerfully picked her up into his arms, hugging her tightly and kissing the side of her head. "Oh Christine, you have made me the happiest man in the world!"

Christine giggled quietly, enjoying the feeling of his ring on her finger. She was surprised on how well it fit her. It was like it was meant to be.

Erik held her out in front of him, grinning widely at her. "When would you like to be married, Christine? Tell me a time and a place, and I will make it happen."

Christine thought for a moment. "Tomorrow, and I just want it to be you and me. No guests. Just you and me at the courthouse. I just want to marry you, Erik."

Erik kissed her forehead quickly and nodded. "It will be done. Tomorrow morning, we will be married. Oh Christine… I promise that I will be the best husband you could ever ask for. I will do anything for you. Anything!"

Christine giggled lightly, being careful not to overdo her breathing. "I know you will, my love. But all I ask of you right now is to let me rest for a little while. Then maybe after that, we can have supper together."

Christine's small smile warmed Erik's heart. He nodded and kissed her cheek, enjoying the feeling of her soft skin against his lips.

"Of course, my darling. Do rest. I shall have supper prepared for you when you wake."

With that, Christine nodded and laid her head down on a small pillow, drifting off to sleep.

* * *

The sun rose over the horizon early the next morning. Christine awoke slowly, slightly surprised that she hadn't woken up ill. She turned onto her side, slightly disappointed to find herself alone in the bed. She heard someone open the front door of Erik's flat and slowly sat up.

"Erik?" she called, rubbing her tired eyes.

She heard footsteps approaching the bedchamber door. The door slowly opened and her masked lover peeked his head in.

Christine smiled at him, reaching her hand out. Erik entered the room and gladly took it, kissing the back of her hand softly. "Good morning, my love," he whispered.

Christine's chocolate irises studied his golden ones. She could see the excitement and joy in his eyes as he looked at her. She touched his cheek gently with the tips of her small fingers.

"Good morning," she whispered back, a small smile appearing on her pink lips.

Erik sat beside her on the bed. "I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes and I will bring it in."

Christine nodded and closed her eyes tight. She felt the weight of the bed shift as he got up. He was gone for only a few moments, returning quickly with his surprise.

"Alright Christine, open your eyes," he said, his face lighting up in delight.

Christine opened her eyes, gasping at the sight before her. Draped over his strong arms was a beautiful ivory gown. The gown was covered in lace and small flowers and the color was beautiful.

"Oh Erik… you didn't have to do this for me…" she said, covering her mouth with her hand.

Her lover's smile grew wider. "I wanted to. Come now, I will help you into it," he said, setting the dress on the bed and helping Christine up.

Erik helped her slip into the gown, pulling the ties in the back and lacing it up. He spread out the skirt, smoothing out the small wrinkles with his big hands. The skirt was light and flowy, not too puffy or full of tool. Lace decorated the sleeves and collar, and small ivory flowers decorated the sleeves and bodice.

Erik gently pulled Christine's soft, chocolate curls over her shoulders and to her back. He dug into his pocket, pulling out a few pins. He went quickly to his armoire, taking out a veil he had bought to match her dress. He pinned it into her hair, spreading out the veil over her beautiful hair and letting it flow down her back.

He slowly moved in front of her, taking in the sight of his beautiful bride. His heart skipped a beat as he gazed at Christine. She was absolutely _breathtaking_.

Christine's big, brown eyes gazed into Erik's golden ones and a small smile spread across her face. Tears of joy threatened to spill from Erik's eyes. He never thought he'd see the day he'd be married to a woman as beautiful as Christine.

He took her hands and kissed the backs of them. He was so grateful for the time he got to spend loving her. Every morning that he woke up beside her was like heaven. Knowing that she loved him was even better.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world, Christine," he whispered, gazing back into her eyes.

Christine's heart fluttered in her chest. Her eyes quickly studied Erik's attire. He had dressed himself in new black slacks, paired with a clean white dress shirt and black waistcoat. The waistcoat had a darker gray pattern on it, accenting the black. He wore a dark cravat tucked under the waistcoat as well. His jet black hair was styled and slicked back neatly and his mask look freshly polished.

Erik looked like the perfect groom.

Christine smiled at him, reaching her hand up and gently touching the unmasked side of his face. "And you are the most handsome man in the world," she whispered back.

Erik was overjoyed. He swept her into his arms, planting a kiss upon her lips. She happily accepted and returned the kiss as Erik carried her out of the bedchamber.

He parted their lips once they reached the front door of his flat. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked her.

Christine pressed a tiny kiss to his cheek. "I am positive," she whispered, laying her head on his shoulder. With that, Erik took Christine out of his flat and down the stairs to the carriage that was waiting for them outside.

* * *

Erik and Christine's wedding was very short and quick, for Christine was extremely tired and could not stand for long periods of time. Erik held onto her during most of the ceremony, making sure she wouldn't fall.

Erik had felt a little bad that there was no fancy cathedral, no guests, and no party, but Christine seemed not to mind. All she could focus on was Erik. Throughout the whole ceremony she had gazed up at him, a small grin spread upon her lips.

If she would have died that day, she would have died happy.

The couple had very simple vows, but they were heartfelt nevertheless. They sealed their vows with a kiss. The kiss was unlike any other kiss they'd ever shared. It was soft, yet passionate, sending a small tingle through both of their spines.

Erik parted their lips, opening his eyes to find Christine smiling at him once again. He placed his hands on her waist, lifting her up and spinning her around.

"Erik!" she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck as he spun them. "What are you doing?"

"Christine, you're my wife! I'm celebrating this miracle!"

Christine planted a gentle kiss on his head. "Oh Erik, it's no miracle. I've always adored you, marrying you is more like… checking something off the list."

Erik stopped spinning her and kissed her soft cheek. "Why don't we go back to the carriage and you can tell me what else is on this list," he smirked, cradling her in his arms. Christine giggled once again and nodded, laying her head on his shoulder.

He carried her back to the carriage, climbing inside and holding her in his lap. Erik stroked her hair lightly, using his other hand to pull her closer to him.

Christine spoke up suddenly. "Next would be a celebration," she said.

Erik furrowed his brows slightly. "Pardon?"

She smiled. "On the list. We've just been married, we must celebrate."

He pondered her request for a moment. "Well, I do not want to push your limit too much today, so how about this: I've got a very nice pasta recipe and a bottle of wine at home. How about I make us our first supper as husband and wife?"

Christine grinned brightly and nodded, her eyes lighting up. "Yes, I would love that," she rejoiced.

Erik loved her to death. He knew that their marriage would not be a very long one, but it would be the happiest marriage in history. Christine kept his spirits so high with each small giggle or smile.

Marriage had once been an unreachable dream for Erik. He never thought someone as distorted as he could find a bride. Now he had not only found a bride, but he had found the most beautiful, cheerful, angelic bride on the earth! He was blessed, and a day would not go by that Erik would not be thankful for Christine.

The carriage soon arrived at Erik's building. Erik climbed out, carrying Christine inside and up the stairs. He opened the front door, carrying her over the threshold and bringing her into the dining hall.

"I will fix supper as quick as I can, but in the meantime, I will bring you some wine and bread," he said setting her in a chair and kissing her head.

Christine sat patiently, sipping her wine once Erik brought it to her. Erik quickly cooked their supper, bringing it to Christine in twenty minutes.

He sat beside her, pouring some wine for himself. "A toast," he said, raising his glass, "To my lovely bride."

Christine smiled and clinked her glass against his. "And to my darling husband."

The couple ate together in silence, occasionally speaking about the supper. Erik finished his meal first, sitting back and sipping his wine as he let Christine finish.

She soon glanced up at him, swallowing her last bite. "Now that we've had our wonderful supper and wine, I believe there is one more thing we must do to celebrate," she said, setting her fork down.

Erik rose his eyebrow. "And what might that be?"

Christine slowly got up, climbing into Erik's lap. She pressed her lips to his, gently laying her hands on either side of his face.

"I think we both know what it might be," she whispered.

Erik quickly picked her up by the waist, letting her legs wrap around him as he carried his blushing bride into the bedchamber.

That night, they made love for the first time as a married couple, watching the snow fall outside the window as the two became one.


	16. Erik's Beautiful Wife

The short winter days passed with each falling snow. Christmas was coming up in the next week.

Erik's first Christmas that he wouldn't spend alone.

He walked down the hall to his bedchamber, carrying a tray filled with small breakfast pastries, tea, and Christine's medicine. He entered the room, smiling at the sight of his sleepy wife.

To everyone's surprise, Christine was still hanging on.

Erik sat beside her on the bed, setting the tray between them. He took her hand gently in his, kissing it lightly.

"Christine, it's me. Are you ready to eat breakfast?" he asked, caressing the back of her hand with his thumb.

Christine slowly shifted under the covers, turning her head towards him slightly. Even though Christine was still with him, she was not getting better. She was still very pale and very thin and had at least one violent coughing fit a day. But she was hanging on as long as she could.

Erik reached out and touched her cheek gently. "Come, my love, I will help you."

He helped her sit up, propping her up with a few pillows. Christine was extremely weak lately, barely able to walk around on her own without losing her breath. Erik was helping her with everything, whether it was bringing her from room to room or dressing and bathing her.

Christine felt guilty every time Erik had to help her with simple tasks. She felt like a child and a burden. She wanted so badly to be able to do things by herself again, but she knew it was hopeless. She yearned to go back in time to six months ago when she had no traces of illness.

Christine shook those thoughts from her mind. She'd made it this far and at least she was still alive. She was determined to make it to the new year. Christine secretly hoped that maybe if she made it to the new year, she'd get better.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a hand caressing her cheek. She looked over at Erik, finding him smiling at her. She returned the smile, gently kissing his cheek.

"Let's take your medicine first, then you can eat," he said. Christine nodded and watched as he poured the medicine from the bottle onto a teaspoon. He lifted the spoon to her lips and she swallowed the medicine, making a disgusted face afterwards.

Erik laughed and lifted a teacup to her lips. "This will make the bad taste go away," he said, letting her take a sip.

Erik didn't mind taking care of Christine. In fact, he loved it. He felt that it brought them closer. Every time he helped her, he was doing it out of pure love for her. Erik loved spending every day with her, helping her out and making her live a little more.

Once in a while, he would take her out places, like on carriage rides or just out to a bistro for tea. It wasn't so easy to go out anymore now that Christine was getting weaker and it was getting colder outside, but he still tried to get her out as much as possible, even if it was just to stand outside the building for a few moments.

As he helped her cut up a breakfast pastry, he started to think about what he could do for Christmas. If she could hold on for just another week, he wanted to celebrate. Erik turned to Christine and looked her in the eyes.

"Christine… do you know what's coming up next week?" he asked.

She pondered for a moment, then shook her head.

"Well, it's Christmas next week. Is there anything you would like to do to celebrate?"

Christine chewed a bite of her pastry while she thought.

"I want to see my friends again," she said, swallowing her small bite.

Erik cut her another bite. "Well, if that's what you'd like, I'll make it happen," he said, handing her the fork.

Her face lit up. "Really? I can see them?"

Erik smiled and kissed her forehead. "Yes, of course. I will have them come here and see you. Just tell me who you'd like to have come over and I'll make sure they're here."

Christine's grin widened and she hugged him tightly. Erik had known how badly she wanted to go see her friends lately, but she had been too weak to do so. If only she could just keep hanging on, just until Christmas, then she could see them.

"Here, I will get you something to write with and some paper, then you can write the guest list. Does that sound good?"

Christine nodded. She was ecstatic. As Erik left to go get the materials, she thought of who she would invite. For sure, she would invite Marie and Scarlet from Mademoiselle's. They had been like family to her, she had to invite them!

Maybe she would even invite Raoul. After all, they were friends and he had apologized…

Her thoughts were interrupted as Erik reentered the room. "Here you are, my love," he said, setting the paper and ink on the bedside table. "You may make the list whenever you are ready. Have you finished breakfast?"

Christine nodded and thanked him with a kiss on the cheek. "Will you run a bath?" she asked, taking his hand briefly.

Erik smiled at her and kissed her small hand. "Of course. I will return soon."

As Erik disappeared into the bathroom, Christine began to make the list. She slowly formed their names on the paper, adding her three friends. She didn't have many friends, but she didn't mind. She was happy just to be able to see them again.

Erik returned to her then, just as she was finishing her list. She set the list back on the bedside table, then extended her arms towards her loving husband. Erik brought her to his arms, lifting her out of bed and bringing her into the bathroom.

Bathing together had become an everyday thing for Christine and Erik. Christine had always insisted that he join her, for she did not like to be alone, nor did Erik want to leave her alone. He removed her nightgown, setting it on the counter. Lately, Christine had only been wearing a nightgown. No bloomers, no chemise, just her nightgown. She would often wake up with terrible night sweats and fevers, and even just her thin night gown was too hot for her sometimes.

Erik began to undress himself. He unbuttoned his shirt, setting it beside Christine's nightgown. As he began to unbutton his trousers, something caught his eye.

He examined Christine's small body. She was extremely thin and pale, which was no surprise, she had been for weeks, but something else was different. She had begun to get odd splotches on her skin.

"Christine… how long have you had these?" he asked, taking her arm and examining the skin.

Christine looked at herself in the mirror. "I've had small ones for a while, but these bigger ones are new…"

Erik took a closer look at her. He found the splotches to be popping up all over her. There were smaller pink ones on her hips that trailed up her spine. More dotted across her neck and one even dared to graze her jaw.

The illness was getting worse. The constant coughing and fevers, he could eventually fix, but this? There was no way he could make these disappear. His heart hurt and he hated himself for not being able to cure her.

Christine slowly reached her hand up and touched the light splotch on her jaw. Her bottom lip quivered slightly as she thought about what she would look like if the red and pink demons kept spreading.

Erik saw how upset she was getting and kissed the splotch on her jaw. "Christine, do not fret. This is a thing we can live with," he whispered. He soon felt her arms around him, her soft curls tickling his bare neck. Erik caressed her back, trying his best to calm her. This was no time to let her be sad, for happiness was her only medicine now.

"Come, my love. You need to relax. I will help you into the bath, and then I will join you myself."

Christine simply nodded, not saying a word as Erik lifted her into the bath. Erik hated to see her so upset. He had to make her happy.

Erik finished undressing himself, then slipped into the water. He looked over at Christine, who had brought her knees to her chest on the other side on the large porcelain tub. She wasn't looking at him, but instead had locked her eyes on another red dot on her thigh.

He extended his arms, grabbing Christine gently and sliding her into his lap. He wrapped his big arms around her tiny waist, putting his lips to her ear.

"Christine, do you realize how beautiful you are?" he asked, planting a small kiss on her ear. Christine looked down at the warm water, not answering him.

She certainly didn't feel beautiful.

Erik rose a hand up to her hair, tucking some of her wild curls behind her ear. "My dear, you are, and will always be, the most beautiful creature that has ever graced this Earth. No matter what happens to you, you will still be beautiful. I don't care if you are covered in those little spots, I don't care if you're thin and pale, I don't care. I mean, look at me."

Erik removed his mask, setting it outside the bath. Christine's eyes lifted, gazing as his mangled face.

"But I love your face, Erik. It makes you… well, it makes you you," she said, her eyes locking on his. She brought her small hand to his face, gently resting it on his deformity.

Erik kissed her hand and laid his on top of hers. "See? You love me, even though I have been cursed with this ugliness. There is no way I could ever hold a few marks on your body against you, Christine. In my eyes, nothing could stop you from being beautiful."

Warmth filled Christine as the words left Erik's mouth. She pressed her lips to his, overwhelmed by the joy he had brought her. She felt his arms wrap around her once again, bringing her closer to him.

The kissed was passionate and filled with desire. Erik wanted to take her badly, but he knew he couldn't. Or could he?

No. Bathing together was an innocent thing. He couldn't change that.

Erik broke off their kiss, giving Christine a small smile as he began to wash her. Her eyes held a look of desire and a need for him, but she remained silent.

She wanted to be a better wife for Erik. A wife was supposed to help around the house, go to the market, take care of their husband after a long day at work. A wife was supposed to dance with her husband, to make love to him, to give him children…

But Christine could do none of that.

Christine's heart ached. She wanted so badly to do something, _anything_ on her own. But it was so hard. Every day she got weaker and her illness grew, preventing her from doing the simplest tasks. Even getting up and walking from the bedchamber to the bathroom was nearly impossible for her!

She hid the sadness from her face, not wanting Erik to be upset. She sat still as he bathed her.

When they finished their bath, Erik quickly dried off Christine. She had told him that she was a bit tired, so he wanted to let her rest. It would be the perfect time for him to make invitations for her chosen guests.

Erik dressed Christine in her nightgown before tucking her back into bed. His angel fell asleep almost immediately. Erik grabbed the paper from the bedside table and went to his office.

* * *

Erik studied her short list. Only three names were on it. He carefully examined Christine's delicate handwriting.

_Miss Marie Cloutier_

_Miss Scarlet Rousseau_

_Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny_

Erik scowled slightly as his saw the last name. He couldn't help being a bit jealous. Why did she want _him_ over for Christmas?

Erik shook his head. He didn't have the right to be jealous. He was married to Christine, was he not? There was no way he could deny Christine any guests, she only chose three. He had to grant every wish she had.

With his pen in hand and paper on the table, he wrote to the Vicomte, Marie, and Scarlet. He finished the letters fairly quickly and went down to the lobby, giving them to the guard to have delivered.

He prayed to God that Christine would live to Christmas.


	17. Christmas

Erik burst through the door, eager to get out of the freezing cold winter air. In his hands was a big turkey he'd just picked up from the butcher's. He set the bird in the kitchen, removing his cloak and rushing back to the parlor and hanging it up.

His mind suddenly went to the woman asleep in his bed.

_Christine._

He moved to the bedchamber, peeking in and glancing over at his bed. There was Christine, half-awake on her side.

"Christine… are you ready to get dressed?" he asked gently, sitting beside her on the bed.

She slowly turned over to him. Her big brown eyes were half closed as a small smile spread across her face. She nodded slowly and closed her eyes once more.

Erik lifted her up from the bed, sitting her on the edge of the mattress. "I have a little surprise for you, my Christine!" he grinned, going to the armoire. He quickly opened the armoire, pulling out a beautiful, deep red gown.

Christine's tired eyes widened a little as she grinned. The gown was simple and long, with a small bit of white lace on the sleeves and collar. It was a perfect dress for Christmas.

The realization suddenly hit her. She had made it to Christmas! It was Christmas Day, and she was alive and breathing! Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes lit up with joy as a wide grin spread across her face.

Erik went to her, helping her stand. "You look very happy, my love," he smiled.

Christine was ecstatic. "Christmas," she whispered, her smile only growing bigger. Erik's face lit up as well. She had lived to Christmas!

As he helped her dress into the new gown, he couldn't help but think of how far she'd come. There was no denying that Christine was not in good health at all; she was now covered in the red splotches, and two had even dared to appear on her cheek, but she was living! Defying odds!

He buttoned the bodice of the gown, placing a small kiss on her cheek when he'd finished dressing her. "Do you remember what we're doing today?" he asked, beginning to pin up her hair.

Christine grinned again as she remembered. "My friends are coming, right?"

Erik gave a light chuckle and smiled. "Yes, that is correct. They will be here soon. I'll bring you to the parlor. You can wait for them there."

He scooped her up into his arms, carrying her into the parlor. It had been decorated with some colored candles and a wreath hung on the door. Erik knew how much Christine had been excited for Christmas, and he was determined to make this the best Christmas of her life.

He set her on the divan, kissing her lips briefly. He took a look at his beautiful wife. She looked stunning in the new gown he'd gotten for her. The red looked very nice against her pale skin, and the dress did a very nice job of not making her look as thin as she was. She looked gorgeous. Almost, dare he say it, healthy. Of course, she still had the red splotches, but the dress hid most of them. She was still coughing, but if he kept her hydrated, it helped a lot.

If Christine could have a normal day, just one normal day, Erik would be eternally grateful.

Erik put more wood on the fire, wanting to make the room warm for Christine and their expected guests. He glanced over at the clock. 2:49.

The guests were expected to be arriving at 3:00. The bird!

Erik quickly went to the kitchen and began to cook the turkey. It was the biggest one the butcher's had, and he decided that Christine deserved the best.

Christine glanced out the window and began to watch the falling snow. Below, on the streets, she watched as decorated carriages pulled eager families through the storm. Children were playing near the storefronts, building things from the snow. She smiled and gently reached her hand out, touching the glass that separated her and the outside world.

She watched as a man and a woman strolled down the street, linked arm in arm. Oh, how she longed to be able to go on strolls with Erik. Just for one day, if she could stroll through the streets with her husband without being sick…

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knocking on the front door. Her attention snapped to the sound, eager to see who had arrived. She watched as Erik came out of the kitchen, quickly going to the door.

"Merry Christmas!" Scarlet cheered as the door opened. Erik smiled and took her hand, kissing it politely. "Christine is in the parlor. She is very eager to see you," he said, gesturing towards the room.

Scarlet thanked him and quickly came to Christine. She was wearing a beautiful white gown, the hem floating just above the floor. The bodice was decorated with small buttons and flowers. This was only the second time Christine had seen Scarlet wearing a regular gown.

"You look beautiful," Christine smiled at her friend, letting Scarlet take her hands.

The older girl smiled and chuckled lightly. "No, my dear, YOU are the beautiful one! Look at this lovely gown!"

Scarlet admired the gown, gently touching the fabric. At the same moment in the other room, Erik was greeting Marie.

"Merry Christmas, Madame," he smirked, kissing Marie's hand. "Thank you for coming. I'm sure Christine is very excited to see you."

Marie smiled and removed her cloak, letting Erik take it. "I must say, I'm quite surprised at her strength. Look at us, celebrating Christmas Day with Christine!" She held out a bottle of wine, giving it to Erik as a gift to the host.

Erik simply gave a small smile and nodded. He did not want to be reminded that this was one of her last days. Nevertheless, he shook the thoughts away and guided Marie to the parlor. He found Scarlet sitting beside Christine, making her laugh as she told Christine stories of things that had happened while she was away.

Marie went to Christine, taking her hand gently and smiling at her. She said something, but all Erik was focused on was how happy his wife was. The smile on her face was one of the brightest smiles she'd had in weeks. It warmed his heart to see her so happy, for she deserved all the happiness in the world.

There was another knock on the door. This knock was cleaner, crisp. Only one person would care about how they knocked.

The Vicomte had arrived.

Erik slowly made his way to the door. He opened it, revealing the young man. "Welcome, Vicomte," Erik said, swallowing the small bit of jealousy.

The Vicomte removed his hat and laughed a little. "Raoul, monsieur. I insist. Merry Christmas to you! May I ask, where is your beautiful wife?"

_'Cheeky.'_

Erik gestured towards the parlor, where feminine giggles echoed throughout the room. Raoul dashed into the parlor, greeting the women with a loud 'Merry Christmas!'

Erik followed slowly behind him. He wanted to see how Christine reacted when she saw her old friend.

"Raoul!" she smiled, gazing over at him. The boy went to her and kissed her hand, then took a seat beside her. They spoke of the snow and the traffic, nothing interesting. It was certainly nothing for Erik to get jealous over.

He let his wife socialize, deciding he would go finish cooking their supper.

* * *

Erik returned to the parlor about an hour later, clapping his hands together once. "Dinner is served," he said as the guests turned their attention to him. Erik then went to his wife, smiling at the sight of her grin. She extended her arms to him, letting him take her into the dining hall. The other guests had seated themselves, waiting for Christine and Erik to take a seat before they ate.

Erik gently placed Christine in her chair, scooting her up to the table.

As he took his seat, Scarlet raised her glass. "May I propose a toast?" she asked. Erik looked over at her and nodded, raising his glass as well. Marie and the Vicomte soon joined in and Christine gently raised her glass as well.

"To Christine, the most amazing woman in all of France!" Scarlet grinned.

Christine's cheeks turned a light pink color as everyone toasted to her. She soon felt a hand on hers and glanced up, seeing Erik smiling at her.

This was perfect. The party, the dinner, the atmosphere, everything was perfect.

Christine thought back to previous Christmases. When she was a young girl, she would spend every Christmas caroling with her father; she would sing and he would play his violin. As she got older, they'd spent Christmases with her friend Meg and the rest of her family. They would all gather at the Daaé house, singing and dancing all day long as Christine and Meg opened a gift from their parents.

Christine remembered her first Christmas without her father. She had spent that Christmas close to Scarlet at every moment. It was her first Christmas at Mademoiselle's and she had recently just arrived in Paris. She remembered how small and afraid she was. Marie had done a special Christmas show on Christmas Eve, but thankfully Christine was not in it. She was still too new to be in such a big show. She had sat up in her bedchamber all night, missing all the Christmas Eve's she'd spent with her father.

The next day, Christmas Day, Christine had been persuaded by Scarlet to go to the Christmas celebration Marie had thrown for all the dancers. Christine hadn't known many of the other dancers and was rather shy. All of the others were drinking or dancing, but she had just stuck behind her one friend.

Then things had changed. The next Christmas, Christine had changed dramatically. She had gone from the quiet young girl in the corner to the life of the party. She had been drinking and dancing just like the other girls, even if most of it was just an act.

Now Christine had felt like she'd found her happy medium. A small party with her closest friends and her dear husband was the perfect Christmas for her.

It was the Christmas to end all Christmases.

* * *

Erik stood by the door as Christine said goodbye to their guests. It was getting late and she was extremely tired, so they had to say an early farewell.

Marie said he goodbyes first. They were simple and short, giving Christine a brief hug and a motherly smile as she wished her a Merry Christmas. Christine knew that Marie wanted to say her goodbyes to Erik before she left, so she let her go quickly.

Scarlet was next. She gave Christine one of the tightest hugs she'd ever received in her life, but Christine was not hesitant to return the embrace.

"Christine, my beautiful young sister, I am so proud of you," she whispered softly, her voice breaking a little. "I am so glad I got to spend Christmas with you. You take care, okay? Please do write if you can. I'd love to hear from you."

Christine nodded and smiled at her. Scarlet gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek before she turned to leave.

Christine could see the tears in her dear friend's eyes as she left.

Erik shared a glance with Marie. She approached him quietly, pursing her lips. "Erik, please do keep in touch. I want to keep up to date with what's happening," she whispered, looking over at Christine.

Erik nodded and opened the door for her. "I will be sure to write you. Thank you for coming, I know Christine was very excited to see you and Scarlet."

With that, the two women left. Only one more.

The Vicomte.

Erik watched as the young man went to his wife, gently laying a kiss upon her knuckle.

"Christine… it has truly been a pleasure to see you. I am sorry that I have not kept in good contact all these years. I am so glad I got to see you this last time. Forgive me for not being a better friend."

Christine gazed at him, smiling softly. "Of course, Raoul. Thank you for coming."

He kissed her hand once again before he got up to leave. He briefly thanked Erik for the invitation before he disappeared out the door.

Erik went to Christine then, trying his hardest to push away his jealous feelings. Her eyes immediately locked on his and he saw something in them he didn't expect to see.

Her chocolate irises were swirling with passion and desire.

He stopped in his tracks, furrowing his brows slightly. "My dear, why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, puzzled.

Christine extended her arms silently, not taking her eyes off his. Erik slowly lifted her into his arms. To his surprise, her legs wrapped around him in one quick move and she pressed her lips to his ear.

"Thank you for today, Erik. If you don't mind, I would like to give you a little Christmas present," she whispered, her voice husky and raging with as much passion and desire as her eyes.

Before Erik could answer her, Christine pressed her soft, warm lips to his, engulfing him in her love.

Erik quickly brought her to his bedchamber, fiddling with the doorknob as they crashed into the dark room, their bodies giving off enough heat to melt all of the winter snow.

As Erik lay in his bed, gently stroking his bride's tender back, he would have never imagined that this would be her last good day.


	18. Tea for Erik

Christine awoke the next morning before Erik. She was still stark naked as she sat up, not bothering to cover herself with the sheet. Rubbing her tired eyes, she glanced to the clock.

6:18 am.

Christine knew that Erik would probably sleep a little longer, for they both were never usually up before seven.

The first rays of daylight shone in through the window, lighting up the room a little. Christine smiled to herself and stretched, enjoying the feeling of the morning light on her skin.

She suddenly had an idea.

The weight of the mattress shifted slightly as Christine began to grab for her chemise. She had set a goal for herself. She was to dress herself and make Erik tea before he woke. Certainly that would be an excellent thing for him to wake up to! After all, he'd been doing so much for her lately, it was the least she could do!

Christine grabbed hold of her chemise, struggling to get it on. She pulled and tugged on the fabric, trying not to tear it as she pulled it over her head. She was already tired from wrestling with the garment. She decided not to even bother with her bloomers, for that would take up the rest of the energy she had.

Christine shakily stood up on the wood floor. She was not very good at getting around without Erik's help, but she was determined. She shot a glance across the room at the armoire. It seemed farther away than she remembered.

There was no way she could put one of her day dresses on and then get to the kitchen. She didn't have even breath in her sick lungs. Christine made the quick decision to just go to the kitchen in her chemise.

'_You can do this, Christine,' _she thought to herself as she slowly made her way out of the bedchamber.

But it wasn't as easy as she'd hoped. As soon as she stepped foot into the small hallway, she began to wheeze. "No…" she said quietly, gripping onto the wall for support.

She continued on, stumbling down the hall as she tried to catch her breath. She soon slipped a little, knocking into a hanging mirror that was on the wall. She glanced quickly at her reflection and gasped.

The splotches had spread everywhere overnight. There were now odd, red spots all over her face. She rose a hand to her face, her bottom lip quivering as she touched a splotch right by her mouth. Tears began to fill her soft eyes as she stared at her repulsive reflection. The wheezing started up again and Christine found herself unable to catch any of her breath.

She coughed and coughed, pushing herself away from the mirror. She had to get to the kitchen, she had to just make one cup of tea for her husband!

Christine had gotten so far already, there was only a little farther to go… but she couldn't do it.

Blood tainted her lips as she coughed harder. She collapsed to the ground, clutching her chest and gasping for air. Tears rolled down her feverish face as she grabbed at her chemise. She needed air! She couldn't die, not like this!

Erik! He had to wake up! He just had to, he had to come help her!

No, he couldn't come help her! She had to make his tea! She had to do something for him!

Christine began to crawl towards the kitchen, dragging herself along the wood floor as she struggled to find her breath.

Just… a little… further…

* * *

Erik awoke to a strange sound coming from the hallway. He opened his eyes and glanced to the spot beside him in bed.

Christine was gone.

He quickly jumped out of bed and pulled on his breeches. "Christine!" he called, running out into the hallway. He saw a figure on the floor near the parlor and heard the sounds of her gasping for air.

_Christine._

Erik raced towards her, pulling her off the ground and into his arms. "Christine!" he stammered, cradling her nearly lifeless body in his arms. He quickly examined her, noticing that the splotches had spread again. She was also extremely hot and he could tell she had an extreme fever. He needed to help her quickly, for he knew he could quickly lose her.

"Christine, what are you doing out here?" he questioned as he quickly brought her into the parlor.

"T-Tea… for Erik…" she mumbled, her eyes fluttering and her head beginning to bob.

Erik laid her on the divan, his face struck with horror. "No, no no no!" he panicked. "Christine, no, do not leave me now!"

Tears flooded his eyes as he saw his nearly lifeless wife before him. He didn't know what to do, he needed to help her but he couldn't!

Erik fell to his knees, letting out a loud cry as he grabbed her hand, kissing it over and over.

"Please Christine! Please, do not go!" he sobbed.

Christine coughed and coughed, gasping for air once again. It hurt Erik to see her like this, in her final stages of life. Her eyes flew open suddenly and searched for him, as did the hand he had just let go of.

Erik quickly grabbed Christine's hand again, laying his other hand on her stomach. "I'm here, Christine, I'm here," he stammered.

Christine's eyes locked onto Erik's as her chest heaved. She grabbed at his chest, desperately trying to find air. He saw that she did not want to die now, not at all. Her eyes cried for help, her face turning a bluish purple.

Erik could not let her die now! She was not ready to die! He couldn't give up on her now!

He quickly lurched forward, moving his mouth to hers. Erik gave her his breath, desperately trying to save her. He did this for many moments, until he finally heard her relax beneath him.

Erik pulled back, looking down at his wife. Her eyes had shut and her breathing had calmed a little. He took the time to catch his own breath now, relieved that he had not yet lost her.

But he had lost her. Even though she was breathing and her heart was beating, inside she was hollow and lifeless.

What had become of his angel? Just a few months ago, she had been a radiant, joyful, stunning young dancer. She had been so happy, so full of life, and now… now she was empty. Her face had been deformed with the horrid red marks, her eyes had lost their color, her skin was pale and her smile was gone.

Erik knew that she would not make it another week, much less through the night.

He touched her tear stained cheek gently, choking back his own tears. She had been trying to do something for him. She was trying to make him tea to show him that she could do something for him. That was all she wanted, to be able to do something so simple by herself. She had felt it was her duty as a wife to do things for her husband, but they both knew she couldn't. Erik had never expected her to do anything for him, and he was perfectly fine with the fact.

But Christine was stubborn. She had wanted to just do this one, little thing, and it nearly killed her. Erik glared at the blood on her mouth, cursing the disease that was taking his beautiful Christine away. He wiped the blood from her once soft, gentle lips with his thumb, wiping his hand on a rag soon after.

Erik took his dying wife into his arms, bringing her back to his bed. He wanted her to be as comfortable as possible, just in case anything happened. He laid her on his soft mattress, setting her head of soft curls onto a pillow. He left her in her chemise, figuring that other clothing would be pointless at this point. She would be gone from him soon; it would not be worth wasting time to dress her.

Christine's chest rose and fell slowly, small, wheezy breaths escaping her slightly parted lips every now and then. Erik watched her carefully, wanting to see all he could of her while she was still alive.

He remembered when he had first seen his love. She had looked so beautiful up on the stage. He had seen her creamy skin and gorgeous chocolate curls when she had come and stood above him, her big, brown eyes staring down at him.

When she had opened her mouth and sung, he thought she had had the most beautiful voice he'd ever heard. Even though he hated the song she was singing with a passion, he still thought her voice was lovely.

Erik realized now that he never got to hear her sing the song he'd written for her. He'd wanted to train her to sing it, for it was not like any other song that had been performed at Mademoiselle's. It was an aria, one he had wanted her to sing elsewhere. Maybe at a theatre somewhere, maybe in a show.

But he had never gotten to hear her sing again and the thought hurt him badly. Oh, what he would give to hear her angelic voice once more! All he wanted was to wrap her up in his arms, letting her sing anything she'd wanted. He wanted to engulf himself in her music, losing himself in the melody as she'd sing.

But that would never happen. Christine would never sing again, and Erik had missed his chance.

The thought made him want to weep. Erik wished he were stronger, that he had the power to heal her. She was so miserable, so pained, and he despised seeing her this way. She deserved better than this, for she had done nothing wrong.

God must have really needed his angel back.

Erik took her hand gently, his thumb stroking the soft skin of her open palm. He remembered what she had said just the other day, something about how she was a bad wife. How she couldn't do things other wives could, like bearing his children.

He imagined having a child with Christine. He saw a young girl with a head full of chestnut curls running widely through their home, begging for her Papa to chase her. Their daughter would have been beautiful, a free spirit and a great artist. She would have a voice just like her mother's and she would sing every day.

He saw the same scenario, but with a young boy. The boy would be just like him, but have his mother's chocolate locks. The child would have always been creating something, constantly making things for his mother and father. Their son would have been an angel. He would have been creative and an excellent musician, learning every instrument his father would be willing to teach him.

Erik frowned. That would never happen. Children were a thing he could only dream of. He didn't blame Christine for not giving him children; he blamed himself for not healing her so she could someday have them.

She would have made the best mother.

Erik shook away the thoughts. He shouldn't dream like this, not when his wife was dying before him.

He brought her delicate hand to his lips, kissing it softly. How he longed to take her out one last time, to see her as happy as she had been just yesterday.

Christine shifted a tad in her sleep. Erik wondered what she was thinking, if she was able to think clear thoughts anymore. Maybe she was dreaming of him, maybe in a happier time far from here.

He could only hope she was having happy thoughts.


	19. The First Light of the New Year

Christine Daaé Garnier died New Year's Day of 1884.

Since she had first collapsed the day after Christmas, she had remained in a lifeless state, not getting up, only eating a few bites a day, and hardly speaking at all. Every morning, Erik would have to change her and her sheets, for they would be covered in blood from the previous day. She had only gotten worse as time went on, making it miserable for both Christine and her husband.

Christine's eyes didn't regain their light again until right before she died.

The week that passed between when she collapsed and when she died was the hardest week of Erik's life. He had tried so hard to make Christine feel better, to get her to stop coughing and bleeding as she was, but every effort was hopeless.

The first three days after the incident were the easiest work wise, for Christine was in a coma-like state, not waking at all. But for Erik, these days were nearly the hardest. He never knew if she would ever wake up, or if she would just die without getting to say goodbye.

He had sat beside her sleeping form, holding her hand for all three days. He did not eat nor sleep, feeling as though he could not leave her. He wanted to spend every last moment with her, not caring if it killed him as well.

He only got up when she had woken. It was late in the afternoon on the fourth day when she finally did. Her eyes had slowly opened and she let out a loud, wet cough, breaking Erik from his trance. She had sat straight up, coughing and spitting blood onto the white sheets. Christine had coughed and coughed, choking out bile for a good six minutes. Erik had squeezed her hand throughout the whole episode, slamming his eyes closed as he listened to her pain. When she had finished, Christine immediately fell back onto the pillows, her eyes as dead and dark as ever.

She glanced over at her loving husband, her stomach beginning to growl. It reminded Erik that neither of them had eaten anything in nearly four days. He got up quickly, dashing to the kitchen. When he had returned with food for her, he had found her wheezing badly.

It never ended. The symptoms, the pain, the heartache, everything. As soon as Erik thought they were catching a break, something would start again. Whether it was wheezing, coughing up blood, crying, aches, or pain, something bad was always happening. It was driving Erik insane, but he would not let it show. He would simply hold her and try his best to comfort her.

The next few days were worse. The red spots that covered Christine's beautiful, creamy skin, opened to sores. Christine had cried when she'd woken and seen them, breaking Erik's heart. He tried so hard to explain to her how beautiful she was, but he could not convince her. She thought she was transforming into a monster, like people in old folks tales did sometimes.

Erik found that Christine could no longer control herself. She was delusional. She would cry over the smallest things, and sometimes she had no reason to. She would not speak with him often, for it hurt for her to speak. Erik didn't understand. Why had she gone downhill so fast?

His question would never be answered.

Two days before the New Year, Christine hit rock bottom. She had awoken in the middle of the night, screaming at the top of her lungs. Erik awoke quickly, even though it had been the only night he'd truly spelt that week. He quickly turned to her, grasping her cheeks in his hands.

"Christine, speak to me, what's wrong?" he pleaded, forcing her to look at his eyes.

She wheezed heavily, her eyes wider than they'd been all week. "Mirror," she choked out, speaking for the first time in two days.

Erik furrowed his brows, confused by what she meant. "Darling, what are you talking about?" he'd asked, concern swirling in his golden eyes.

Her hands had shot up to her face, feeling it carefully. She felt the light bumps on her cheeks and near her eyes. "The sores," she wheezed. "Blood."

Her eyes were no longer dark and cold. They were consumed with fear. Erik pulled her close to him, pressing her head to his shoulder as she let out a long cry.

Erik later learned that she had had a terrible nightmare about her own death. She had seen images of her bleeding badly, her face covered in the same sores that were on her thin arms. Christine told him about how she'd died alone in her own misery and she didn't know why he wasn't there.

Erik made a promise to her then that he would not leave her.

Christine did not go back to sleep after that. She lay awake in Erik's arms, her eyes looking lost and far away. Erik sat up with her, stroking her hair and trying his hardest to make her feel comfortable. He wished so badly that he could help her return to normal. She needed to rest and so did he, but Erik knew that she would not be falling asleep anytime soon.

Christine stared blankly at the ceiling for hours, not saying a word until the first ray of morning sunlight came through the curtains.

Her eyes darted to the window. Erik quickly followed her gaze as her shaky hand pointed to the morning light. She didn't say a word, yet Erik knew exactly what she was trying to say.

Erik had gently picked her up, carrying her to the window. His wife's small hand touched the window gently as she took in the morning light. He kissed her wild curls gently, letting her watch the life outside of the window.

That was the last time Christine would get to be close to the beloved window.

The calm of the morning had put Christine back to sleep and Erik had returned to the bed, tucking her in under the covers. He thanked God that she had fallen back to sleep, for maybe she would feel better if she was well rested.

But Christine slept the rest of the day and well into the next, the last day of the year.

Erik had just woken up himself from a short slumber when he heard Christine waking. She had coughed lightly, not yet opening her eyes. Erik touched her back gently, then wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest.

Christine had nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck. It was around seven o'clock at nighttime. Erik could sense how weak Christine had grown during her slumber. Her breaths were slow and soft, her eyes tired and barely open. Erik knew that it was going to happen very soon.

He planted a small kiss on her cheek. Oh, how he loved his wife. Life would be so hard without her...

Christine spoke up then, her voice quiet and hoarse. "Erik… do you still love me?" she asked.

"_Je t'aimerai jusqu'à la fin de ma vie_," Erik whispered back, caressing her back.

A tiny smile appeared on Christine's lips, the first smile she'd had since Christmas.

Erik stayed up with Christine all night. She had told him during the night that she wanted to see the first morning light of the New Year before she died, and both Christine and Erik were determined to make sure she saw it.

Erik held her hand throughout the night, letting her squeeze it as she'd cough or feel pain. Getting through the night was hard for Christine. She'd begun to run a fever again and had night sweats, having a few coughing fits in the darkness.

Through everything, Erik had held her. He'd adjusted himself so he was sitting up, leaning against the headboard with Christine in his lap, her head resting on his strong shoulder. He'd kissed her head over and over as she'd get ill, trying to help her get through it.

And she did.

Around five o'clock, a familiar warmth filled the room. Erik glanced out the window. He had parted the curtains all the way the day before so Christine could see. Erik saw the sunlight beginning to fill the room as the sun rose in the east.

Christine's eyes widened a little as she saw the sunlight. "The first light of the New Year," she whispered.

Erik gazed down at her. Her chocolate curls cascaded down along her arms and over her shoulders as her head tipped back just a tad. Her eyes had regained all of their light, her irises swirling with joy. A large grin stretched upon her tired lips and cheeks. She looked like an angel.

_His beautiful wife. His Christine._

Erik squeezed her hand. "The sun, the moon, and all the remaining stars are shining for you, my Christine," he whispered, gently laying a kiss on her lips.

He felt her return the kiss slightly and pulled her even closer to him. She soon went limp and Erik slowly pulled away from her, afraid to open his eyes.

But he did. He had to.

Christine lay still, a small smile still frozen upon her lips. Erik's eyes became watery as he gazed at his love.

Her pain and suffering was over at last. She was finally at peace.

Tears slipped from Erik's eyes, rolling down his cheeks as he drew her close to him once again.

"My love, my dear Christine…" he cried softly into her hair, shaking slightly as he held her. She was gone. He tried to remind himself that she was in a better place, but he could not stop his sobbing. He yearned for her to return to him, to be with her once more.

But Christine was with God now. Not Erik. His angel had returned home and he only hoped that someday he could go home to her.

Erik's heart shattered into a million pieces as he laid Christine's delicate head back on the pillow. He took her cold hands into his, pressing his face into them as he let out a long, loud cry. He cried her name into the morning light, his voice breaking as his emotions took over.

He couldn't take the pain and agony that filled him. He buried his face into the hem of her chemise, crying out her name once more.

"Come back to me! My Christine, please do not go!" he cried. He begged and pleaded, wanting her so badly to return to his embrace once more. He couldn't accept that she was gone, even though he'd prepared himself for it.

His heart felt empty. He had nothing else to love. Christine had filled his life with joy and laughter, and now it was gone. His happiness had left with her.

Erik had nothing else to live for, but he had promised Christine that he would not take his own life. Maybe things would get better with time. They had to.

Erik glanced up at her face. Through his blurry, tear consumed vision, he could still see the small smile upon her lips. The only thing that made his heart feel a little better was that she went happily, for that was all he could ever ask for.


	20. Afterglow

**Author's Note:**** I apologize that this is the first author's note! But I would like to give a big thank you to anyone who has taken the time to read this story, and/or to follow/fav it. So THANK YOU. It means the world to me. I hope you enjoyed the story and I will hopefully write more in the future!**

* * *

The cold, crisp winter air blew against Erik's half exposed face as he walked down the cobblestone street.

It had been a year since Christine passed. Nothing had been the same since she died. Erik suddenly seemed older and more fragile. He had secluded himself from everyone but Marie. He visited her once a week, just to get himself out of the house. Marie was concerned about her friend. He looked so tired all the time, so empty. She knew how badly the loss of his wife had affected him.

Erik slowly stumbled into Mademoiselle's, turning and going up to Marie's office. He rapped on the door twice before entering and plopping down on a chair.

Marie glanced up from her paperwork. "Why, hello to you, too," she said, reaching over for a bottle of wine. "How are you holding up, my friend?"

Erik took a glass from her, taking a long sip of his wine. "The New Year is in two days, Marie. Christmas was hard enough for me, but the New Year? I don't know how I'm going to make it," he muttered.

Marie sighed, taking a small sip of her wine. "I know, Erik, but you know she is in a better place."

The mask man grumbled. "And it kills me because I cannot be with her. I know she's in a better place, I know she's no longer feeling pain, I know she's happy, but _I miss her_. That will never make me stop missing her. She was the light of my world, my everything! I would have given anything up to keep her with me. I need her in my life, Marie. Every morning I wake and I know she won't be there, and I cannot live with that anymore. I know I made her a promise that I would live after she was gone, but do you realize how hard it is?

"Everywhere I look, I see her. I see her in the mornings by my window, I see her lying on the divan in the parlor, I see her in the streets when I come here. She's everywhere, I see her everywhere! How am I supposed to live like this? I'm lying in bed every night, miserable and alone without her, and she's lying in the ground beneath a gravestone!"

Marie's eyes widen a bit at all of this. Over the past year, Erik had been quiet about missing Christine. Of course, Marie knew that he missed her, but he'd never really said anything. But now, it was like he'd finally flipped a switch on and everything was coming out at once.

Her friend sighed and looked down. "I just miss her so badly. I loved her, Marie, and I only got to love her for such a short time."

The woman nodded, sending her sympathy to him. "But Erik, don't you see? She's still here with you. I know that Christine would want nothing but to see you happy."

"Don't you see that I'm trying? I try to forget about her for even just a moment, but I can't. Memories of her flood my mind every single second of the day. It's like she won't let me forget her!"

He rubbed the unmasked side of his face, frustration consuming his eyes. He couldn't even stop thinking of her now. Christine's voice filled his head, making it nearly impossible for him to listen to a thing Marie was saying.

"Of course she won't let you forget her! But Erik, you've got to remember her in moderation. You don't have to think of her every day. Do things to take your mind off it. Maybe you should start composing again! I'm sure she'd be happy to see you doing that!" Marie stated.

Erik swirled the wine around in his glass. "I suppose, but I feel as though my music has left me. I am no longer inspired to compose when she is not here. She was my muse. Without her, I am nothing."

He took in a deep breath and thought of Christine's beautiful face. He thought of her perfectly round cheeks that were always a light pink color, her big, brown eyes that were paired with long lashes, her creamy skin that was as soft as an infant's, and her chocolate curls.

Oh, how he missed seeing that angelic face…

Erik snapped back to reality when he realized Marie had asked him something.

"Have you tried speaking to her?" Marie asked, taking another sip of the wine.

Erik furrowed his brows. "She's dead, Marie. I cannot speak to her when she is with God."

The woman shook her head. "Go to her grave and speak to her. Tell her how you've been feeling lately. Talk to her, Erik. I guarantee it will help you."

Erik thought about it for a moment. Maybe it would help him. Of course, he would have to mentally prepare himself before going. He hadn't been to her grave in nearly three months. It hurt too much to go, for it reminded him of where her beautiful form was. It reminded him of her, his late wife.

But Erik knew she was right. He had to go.

"Alright… I shall give it a try. I shall go in two days' time."

Marie gave him a small smile before getting up to hug him goodbye. "I know you can do it, Erik. Tell her I said hello, would you?"

Erik embraced her quickly, then set his glass down on her desk. "I will see what I can do, Marie," he murmured, leaving her office soon after.

As she watched him leave, Marie could only hope he would truly take her advice.

* * *

Erik returned back to his flat as quick as he could. He burst through the front door, basically throwing his cloak onto the rack. The masked man dashed to his bedchamber, tearing open the armoire.

His hands flew over the garments inside, searching for the specific garment he was looking for.

Finally, he felt the familiar fabric. It was soft and creamy in color, reminding him of her. Erik pulled out the chemise, looking at the garment longingly.

He clutched the chemise to his chest, the smell of roses still lingering in the fabric.

Memories of Christine filled his mind once again. He remembered the last time she'd worn this, when she'd died in his arms almost a year ago.

He remembered how happy she'd looked. Her eyes had shone brighter than a thousand stars as she looked at the light.

Erik had had so much hope that he could heal her. He had thought that maybe, just maybe, if he gave her all his love, stayed up with her, fed her and bathed her, and did all the things he'd been doing to care for her that maybe she would heal.

But deep down, he knew she would never get better. He had blamed himself for letting her die.

Erik let a few tears fall onto the chemise. He wished so badly to hold her in his arms one last time, to give her on last kiss and tell her how sorry he was.

He prayed Christine was doing well where she was. All he'd ever wanted was for her to be happy, even if he wasn't happy in the end.

Erik kissed the chemise gently, wishing so badly that she was here instead of him. The world would be more blessed with her presence than it ever would be with his. Erik was a monster, a demon. Christine was an angel.

Looking back down at the chemise, Erik made his decision. He had to go back to her grave and speak to her. Even if she couldn't hear him, it would be good to get things off his chest.

He hung the chemise back up in the armoire before heading to his office to write down exactly what he wanted to tell her.

* * *

The first day of the New Year arrived quickly. Erik had decided to arrive at the cemetery early in the morning, before the sun rose. He dressed himself and clipped on his cloak, heading out into the cold, winter air.

Erik held a small bouquet of roses in his hands. He made his way to the quieter part of Paris, where Christine had been buried.

As he approached the gates of the cemetery, he felt a stinging in his chest. The pain of Christine's death was returning to him. He swallowed hard, trying to numb the lingering pain. Erik stretched out his arm, slowly opening the gate.

Christine's grave was in the middle of the cemetery. Erik shuffled through the snow, making his way to where she rested.

He spotted her grave as he rounded a corner.

_Christine Daaé Garnier_

_October 11__th__, 1864 – January 1__st__, 1884_

_Sacré Ange, dans le ciel béni, _

_Mon esprit aspire avec toi pour se reposer._

Erik knelt beside her grave, gently laying the roses on the cold, snowy ground. He had brought her red roses, her favorite. He knew she would like them if she could have seen them.

Reaching into his pocket, Erik pulled out a piece of paper. He'd written everything he'd wanted to say to her on it. Taking in a deep breath, he began to speak.

"H-Hello, Christine," he began, his voice a bit shaky. "I… I came here to speak with you one last time. I know that you probably can't hear me, but I just want you to know I'm here."

He stood then, unfolding the paper.

"Christine… I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I shouldn't have let you go; I should have healed you and taken better care of you. I know now that none of this will bring you back, but… damn," he muttered. Erik crumbled the paper and tossed it away, going down on his knees.

"Christine, I loved you and I let you die! I was supposed to save you, Christine! You were my wife, I wasn't supposed to let you slip through my fingers like that! I didn't even get to tell you that I loved you!"

Erik wept then, wishing so badly that he could pull her from the grave, bringing her back to him. He wanted his wife back. His Christine.

Erik wept for long moments, not able to regain his emotional strength. He couldn't do this. He couldn't live without her. She was his whole world! How could he live without his world?

Erik suddenly felt the sadness leaving him. He looked up, the tears drying from his cold cheeks.

"Chr...Christine?"

It was like she was with him. Her voice filled his head, consuming his thoughts. She was saying that it wasn't his fault…

Her words calmed him. Erik knew that it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but he couldn't help but submit to her. He reached out his hand, touching the cold stone of her grave.

"My Christine… I love you so much, my darling. Please forgive me for all the wrongs I've done. I would do anything to have you back by my side, Christine. I miss you more than anything and only hope that you can hear me. I'm so sorry…"

Erik bowed his head, sighing deeply. The cold air blew against his exposed cheek, but to him it felt like her touch. He thought that surely she was there, even though he could not see her. He imagined her back by his side, wearing her favorite white gown and looking more beautiful than she'd ever looked before.

Erik stood again, his fingers brushing her name on the stone. "Thank you for your love. You were the best thing that ever happened to me," he whispered, closing his eyes. "I love you, Christine. Don't ever forget that."

Erik turned to leave. He had said what he'd needed to say. He felt better; the pain in his heart was beginning to fade. He left the cemetery just as the first light of morning broke over the horizon.

As he strode off into the dawn, his angel smiled.

_I love you, too._


End file.
